


End of Nations

by SentientStratofortress



Series: End of Nations [4]
Category: Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Character Death, Cyberpunk, Cyborgs, Family Drama, Family Feels, Future, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Original Character(s), Other, Robotics, Robots, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Spaceships, Transhumanism, War, corporate warfare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4530279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SentientStratofortress/pseuds/SentientStratofortress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the future when nations are no longer needed, Prussia travels into the solar system to search for Germany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

After a night of heavy rain, the horizon's gentle curve became visible to Prussia one morning after a nearby city's heavy smog was cleared. The lenses in his crimson light eyes focused on the 3D holographed adverts as they powered down for the day. Hatches on the walls of black skyscrapers swished open with vendors, both human and machine, behind them. They were ready to sell goods, which varied from manufactured food to complex machinery, to involuntarily modified slaves. Drone traffic increased and the air was filled with the screams of jet engines and long flames from the thrust nozzles of rockets.

Prussia's eyes refocused, zooming out from telescopic mode. The adverts, vendors and drones faded into dots in the distance. Prussia was standing 20 miles away from the city, and with his eyes out of focus, all he could see were skyscrapers and wasteland. But he could still hear the engines just as clear. A feeling of isolation crept into his wire-tangled head.

Feeling isolated was nothing new to him. When humans and nations alike began to forget about him, he had nobody to turn to except for machines and the finite company of Gilbird, his yellow feathered companion. Even his brother, Germany, showed him the door.

"It'll be best for all of us if you accept your fate. I can leave you to fade away in peace, if you like," Germany said solemnly while showing him to the open rear passenger door of a black BMW in front of an expensive hotel in Frankfurt. He looked at Prussia, expecting some extremely loud egotistical back talk in a futile attempt to save his existence and not be completely forgotten. Yet Prussia said nothing until he was seated in back of the car.

"You're wrong, Germany," he said while his lips curled upwards, "even when the name of my last believer has been mentioned for the last time," he paused, leading Germany to believe he was contemplating what to say next, "and in the future, we will meet again." By then, Prussia's voice had grown menacing, "Take me home," he said to the driver.

"Goodbye," said Germany sadly as the car pulled out into the main road.

"See you soon," said Prussia.

Prussia never faded away. Instead, piece by piece, organ by organ, he replaced himself to stay alive. Even his emotions became a series of algorithms within his new digital brain. All the while when he hid away in a cocoon of wires, the world went through reform after reform.

Nations started to disappear because humans no longer needed them.

"Do you think you'll find Germany in this city?" Asked Gilbird, perching on Prussia's shoulder.

"If I don't find him here, I'll keep searching," said Prussia in his new deeper auto-tuned voice that caused vibrations like a bass drop. With that, Prussia began to stride forwards to the city.

"How long have you been searching for him?" Said Gilbird curiously.

"I can't remember how long. You know that," replied Prussia. Perceiving time was difficult without a means to measure it, and without having to worry about mortality.

The entrance gates to the city towered overhead and dotted with lasers that turned from left to right rhythmically. Green lasers meant go. Red lasers meant wait. Lanky vicious officers in reflective masks directed people, who were mostly mutated humans, through the queues. The gates were sentient and more qualified than the officers to manage a crowd and determine who not to let in. The officers' job was just to assist the gates by breaking up fights and purging the mutants that were denied entry after waiting hours in the mile-long zigzag queue space. Prussia was not the only metal humanoid waiting to enter the city. But the tatty ancient blue military uniform he wore made him stand out. Most robots and transhumans never bothered with wearing clothes. His telescopic eyes began to focus in and out of the distant gates while the miniature cameras on his head tried to decipher how many people were waiting in the queue in front of him. A green warning flashed on the heads up display in front of the eye lenses, telling Prussia that there were too many people to count.

The bustling market was not the only reason why the city had so many visitors. Many of the mutants were also travelling to the spaceport to be transported for work on an offworld location. With Gilbird still on his shoulder, Prussia could see some of them lugging huge mining drills that were long enough to be barely man-portable. Some were also carrying stained diamond cutters the size of truck tyres.

When Prussia reached the front of the queue, he could feel the heat from the red lasers on his shoulders. The gate's camera, radar and microchip scanner worked in unison to identify Prussia, and soon loaded up the information from Prussia's microchip from the gate's huge database. Gilbert Beilschmidt. Y/N It communicated directly into the microchip in his head. Prussia selected Y using his brain which caused the gate to bleep. The red hot lasers switched to room temperature green, allowing him and Gilbird to enter the city.

Prussia had barely walked a metre into the city before he was jostled about by people carrying machine parts and information chips. A 3D printer clunked into life in a smelly cafe's terrace beside him. It was printing brown sludge using brown ingredients in it's cartridge, and an air vacuuming drone picked up the sludge to bring it to tables. But Prussia walked on, he had no need for food anymore.

He pushed his way through the crowd in search for the internet, as he did in every city or town he travelled to. "I'm gonna be rich!" Shouted a pubescent mutant, before pulling out a pistol from the front pocket in his jacket and shooting himself in the temple in with a loud pop. Blood and brains splattered the hard ground, which turned a few heads. A cleaning crew of yellow cubic robots slid up to the scene to clean up the mess while an officer looked on. Prussia figured that he must be close to the internet, because the internet often convinces the foolish to act foolishly.

His heads up display recognized the internet at a table not far from the mutant's corpse, so his brain allowed it to use his leg joint motors to home in on it. With no queue, Prussia sat in front of the internet at an aluminium table. The glow of the internet made the numbers in the heads up display difficult to read, so he ignored them. The internet's constant buzzing made peoples' conversations difficult for his ears to tune into, but he didn't let that bother him. "Ludwig Beilschmidt. Likes to be called Germany," said Prussia firmly. The internet's glow turned from yellow to orange as dimensions twisted around the internet's reach. It scoured space and deep into the past, through black boxes and databases and memory banks located throughout the city for any sign of Ludwig Beilschmidt passing through. Perhaps it would spot him through facial recognition in a surveillance camera, or a strand of DNA left in a bathroom. Maybe a payment in a bar in the name of Ludwig Beilschmidt.

As the internet searched, Prussia pulled his wallet from his inside pocket using the electromagnet on the palm of his hand. He prepared for the internet to tell him NOT FOUND, where he would then say, "thanks anyway," then give the internet some money and expect it to say TRY SHOOTING YOURSELF IN THE HEAD. THAT MIGHT HELP.

But instead, the pumping speed of Prussia's machine of a heart increased for a fraction of a second when the internet told him FOUND. "Where?!" Prussia demanded, standing up so fast that he caused the cheap chair he was sitting on to fall over. SPACEPORT. SINGLE TICKET TO KUIPER BELT. TIME NOT FOUND.

"So it can't tell us when he brought his ticket? That sucks," said Gilbird, still perching on Prussia's shoulder.

Prussia remained speechless for roughly 10 seconds until something in his head jumpstarted. "We need to get to the spaceport," he said firmly, "we're going to the Kuiper Belt."


	2. Chapter 2

"I thought you gave up your endless strife."

"I never gave up, I just had to rebuild so I could continue on. I'm simply too..."

"...Awesome?"

"Exactly!"

"Is that why you were abandoned by the people you loved the most?"

Prussia said nothing in reply.

The spaceport looked brutal and imposing by design, with strong concrete piers hundreds of meters long that jutted out above the streets below. It was monolithic, a huge cubic structure that rose high above flat ground like a mesa. Spaceships departed and arrived, often flying in formation. Sonic booms were abundant, heard in quick, rhythmic succession. The interior was just as grand as the exterior, large and hollow enough to have clouds forming near the ceiling on days with high humidity. Waiting areas for spaceships were placed in neat rows around the upper levels where Prussia stood. He could see the ground floor roughly 400 metres below him. From there it looked like a riot in a pit. At least he was able to push his way through the mosh pit with his abominably strong mechanical arms to get to a ticket machine. Nowadays it was impossible to get to the Kuiper Belt directly, but he was able to buy a ticket to Mars where he could travel from there.

Many people had tried to get away from Earth over the years, but Prussia thought the scramble was over. He was out of touch with humanity, not that he ever was. Earth had been left to the damned, contributing to the demise of many nations. But Prussia knew there were planetary colonies were some nations (Germany, for example) could theoretically have survived.

Pops of gunfire, and the bla-zam noises of lasers wafted up to the level he stood. Prussia turned his head and let his eyes focus in on where the sounds of the firearms were coming from. A group of four people were shooting on the crowd. They wore helmets that masked their faces. The weapons they held were heavy and chunky. The gun barrels spun quickly like sawblades. The lasers were infrared, invisible to the human eye. Put Prussia's eyes could see infrared, so he watched as the beams of light struck their innocent victims, who fell and he looked on as their bodyheat depleted.

The ground level was now even more chaotic as people ran from the maelstrom of bullets and lasers. Cold bodies lay still, becoming damaged further as people stepped on them.

Prussia simply watched. Empathy was a difficult emotion for his new brain to comprehend. But sympathy was different. To him, human lives were so finite and delicate. But his logic determined he should sympathise with the murderers if they were to be apprehended. He also wondered what their motives were.

"Are you going to stand here and watch those people get slaughtered?" Asked Gilbird.

Prussia shrugged, "human lives are worthless, aren't they. I'm no god or hero. At least not anymore."

Centuries ago, people had laid down their lives for the Prussian flag. But with Prussia dead as far as anybody else was concerned, so he wondered if there was a good reason to get involved in any fights. Nobody would fight for him, and he would not fight for anybody either.

"If you did nothing, would you be able to live with it on your (artificial) conscience?" Gilbird asked.

"I already have to live with burdens, we all do. This is nothing different," said Prussia nonchalantly.

"What happened to the awesome Prussia?" Said Gilbird tauntingly.

Prussia would have rolled his eyes if he could, "argh, fuck it," he groaned. Perhaps this once, he'd be awesome again.

Prussia swung over the railings and fell, feet first. While in mid air, he located the shooters to plan his next move.

There were two laser gunners walking next to each other, placing a new battery into their guns in unison. Someone with a bullet-fed gun was to the right in front of them. Two more shooters were to the left and right behind. Prussia targeted the shooter in the rear left of the group.

Prussia fell quickly, aiming at the gunman. He felt just like a grim reaper, about to swipe away someone's volatile life. The gunman didn't even see him coming. Prussia positioned his feet in front of him as he fell. His heavy lead boots with steel blades on his toes met the man's head, pushing him down and crushing both his metal helmet and his skull in a loud but quick crunch. But the sound of metal and bone being crushed was drowned out by the loud thump of his feet hitting the concrete ground. Prussia's legs bent to absorb the impact, quick to prevent himself from falling over. He then straightened up, his balance unaltered by the blood under his feet.

For a moment, everything was quiet. The three remaining shooters stopped firing, they stared at him instead. Even some of the people they were trying to kill stopped running to look at him, they too said nothing.

Judging by the way they had spun around so fast and lowered their guns, Prussia thought the shooters were pretty shocked. He could not see their faces through their helmets, so he switched his vision to infrared. By the time he did, he could see that they were pretty angry because all three of them were shooting at him.

Prussia made his movements unpredictable to lower the chances of getting shot by those punks. He jumped six feet into the air and did a somersault, looking down at them as he did. When out of the somersault, he landed behind one of the shooters and snapped her neck. Her death was clean. Click, lights out.

Prussia could see red bodyheat in his infrared eyes dissipate as he picked up her limp corpse to use as a human shield. Her laser gun fell out of her hand, so he grabbed it off the ground. The number screen in front of the gun's stock told him that the battery had 2 seconds worth of laser left. It wasn't much, but still enough to do significant damage.

The corpse twitched with every bullet it took. Prussia lunged forward, taking the laser gun and firing blindly at where the bullets were coming from. He heard a yelp and a thud. Then the corpse was meleed away by a man with an assault rifle, who aimed it at Prussia. He pulled the trigger as soon as Prussia took hold of the gun and yanked it upwards. While the gunman was distracted, Prussia kicked him in the torso. He groaned with pain and fell back a few metres while Prussia stood still, holding the gun by it's barrel. He swung it round so that he held it properly, with his finger on the trigger.

"No, wait, please!" The man coughed, now unarmed. He shakily picked himself up, stumbling with both hands up. Prussia shot him three times in the face. Empathy was not his forte, his programming would not allow it.

His attention turned to the gunman we had shot with a laser, who had somehow survived and lay twitching and gasping. Some of his clothes had been burned away by the laser. Prussia strode up to him, and he looked up at Prussia with helplessness in his eyes. Prussia showed no emotion, they were just a pair of red lens telescopes. He looked at the man for a second or two, then stomped down on his head, but didn't crush it fully. So he stomped down again, again and again. Crunches could be heard, then squelches. "That's enough," said Gilbird, who swooped down beside him. Prussia looked at the mess he'd made, and nodded.

He strode to the lift, leaving behind a long trail of bloody footprints. Gilbird stayed head height and followed him. He had no trouble walking to the lift, because the shooters had cleared out the area. There was nobody left alive to jostle past.

He took the lift back up to the level he had been waiting at. A man stood in front of the lift doors when they opened, waiting for him. He wore a red leather jacket and black trousers with patches sewn into them. The man's eyes were blue, and a pair of mining goggles on his forehead were partially covered by messy black fringe bangs. "So the legends are true," he said happily, "you're still alive, Prussia."

Prussia was shocked, although his face was unable to display such an emotion. "Who are you?" He asked.

The man held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Poseidon."


	3. Chapter 3

There was a time when all nations knew how to fly, and Prussia had been one of the first learn how to do so. Germany was so jealous when Prussia got his hands on a Junkers piston engined monoplane before him. Prussia loved aerobatics and high-altitude flight. If his limited fuel would let him, he would spend hours gazing at the places he would pass over. Towns, meadows, rivers. Everything from horizon to horizon was him and his brother (unless he strayed close to another nation's border) and it made him feel small yet significant in the world. He was a nation, but there was a sense of humanity he felt when he flew. Perhaps it was because humans liked to fly too. Or perhaps it was because he could see so many lives interconnected in both the countryside, and towns he flew over, that he felt connected to them too, albeit only partially. Prussia was a part of their lives, and now they were part of his. Although, flying did give him a sense of superiority, which he loved to brag about when given the opportunity.

When Germany learned to fly, they would often compete for speed and endurance. During one of these flights, the engine on Prussia's plane began to cough as the RPM decreased. He dropped out of the sky, having to make an improvised emergency landing in a farmer's field. His still-spinning propeller narrowly missed a cow as Prussia braced for a crash that was much less severe than anticipated.

Of course, Germany never let him forget about the incident. They would often talk and laugh about it while out drinking beer.

Prussia loved flying, and admired the exploits of other pilots. But planes and spaceships didn't have pilots anymore. Instead, they were controlled by more efficient semi-sentient computers with all the necessary decision making protocols programmed into them.

He sat in a metallic streamlined spaceship with delta wings and rectangular thrust nozzles, waiting for it to depart for Mars. He looked at Poseidon, who sat on the aisle seat beside him, and wondered if him or anybody else onboard had even considered the possibility of being at the controls of a machine as fast and beautiful as the one they were in.

Poseidon had kindly upgraded Prussia's ticket to business class, and let him have the window seat. They sat in a separate cabin near the front of the spaceship, away from the working class miners. "I'm sure letting you fly business class is the least I can do to thank you for killing those goons," Poseidon said, breaking a long silence, "they were killing a lot of my workers."

"Your workers?" Asked Prussia, "I didn't realise you had facilities on Mars."

"They're new," said Poseidon nonchalantly, "mostly still under construction. Surveyors have recently discovered minerals there. And were there's minerals..."

"...There's Poseidon," finished Prussia, "I saw your adverts. I know corporations get called into existence the same way nations used to, but I never thought I'd actually meet one."

"Charmed," said Poseidon, sounding genuinely flattered.

Neither Prussia or Poseidon said anything for about half a minute. But it soon occurred to Prussia to ask, "how did you know who I am?"

"I read on your disappearance, and why you disappeared. But saw a few artists' depictions on what you look like. You know, many corporations are glad that they're nations' predecessors. But I always hoped you weren't all completely gone, that you weren't just ledgends or silly comic characters," he paused, thinking, "back in that fight, your movements would be physically impossible for any human. I'll bet you're more way more machine than man."

"It's true, I am more machine than man," replied Prussia, "any organic tissue has been rotted and discarded thanks to me being wiped off the maps."

A deep rumble that caused the fuselage and seats to quake became a high pitched scream as all six engines on the spaceship flamed into life. Thrust began to be vectored downwards, blasting the entire vehicle up vertically. Prussia's internal components became momentarily squeezed down to his carbon fibre pelvis during the rapid ascent. He looked left and right rapidly, the tiny windows only provided minimal situational awareness and the pressurized cabin made it difficult for him to perceive altitude. He became hypersensitive, to compensate for such a lack of information on the current situation. "You look nervous," said Poseidon, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of those mighty engines. Prussia said nothing, trying to maintain his stoic appearance. "Is this the first time you've flown in centuries or something?" Poseidon chuckled, "guess it's a little different to how it was back then." He then looked slightly sad, and turned to look at the seat in front of him.

"Fine. Well, I am a little nervous. It has been a while since I've been in any kind of aircraft," Prussia admitted.

"I thought machines like you weren't supposed to have emotions like nervousness," said Poseidon curiously, looking back at Prussia and tilting his head to the side.

"Emotions act as a guidance system in my decision making processes, and are devised inferences from analysing situations," explained Prussia.

Before Poseidon could reply, the horizontal thrust nozzles kicked in. The downward facing thrust nozzles also shifted to horizontal. At full power, the spaceship slid forwards through the air at phenomenal speeds unimaginable just a couple of centuries earlier. Prussia's internal components were then pressed against his hydraulically operated spine which was now kept in an upright position. Condensation blocked the view out the window as a few sound barriers were broken. The nose was now pitching up towards space with ever increasing degrees. Now that he was slightly more used to this type of travel, Prussia became slightly less hypersensitive.

The clouds looked so low from their altitude, they appeared to be almost touching the taupe-coloured ground. And the sky was fading to a darker shade of blue until star after star dotted the sky, making Earth look like a tiny orb in a huge chamber. It all seemed so much more massive back when he walked on it. Back on the Earth's surface, stars were shrouded from smog and light pollution. It had been years since Prussia had seen stars. They looked magnificent, the true meaning of larger-than-life. And he wondered if Germany would be living among any one of them.

The rapid acceleration slowed as cruising speed was almost reached. Prussia could see Europe, or what was left of it, before it became devastated by corporate warfare, with vast amounts of land flooded by the sea. Bays and headlands existed where they didn't during his time as a nation. He could see where he once existed, too. It was tiny in comparison to the size of the planet and vast universe that was visible just outside the window. The more he looked at where he once existed, the more he became upset. He turned his head away from the window wearily. "Can you forgive corporations like Poseidon for what they did to nations?" Whispered Gilbird to Prussia.

Prussia considered what Gilbird had said. It was true that corporations were partially responsible for the end of nations, but surely Poseidon wasn't completely to blame. "Maybe," he whispered back, too quiet for Poseidon to hear.

"It must have been really cool back when people were allowed to pilot these things," remarked Poseidon, with a hint or sadness in his voice.

"Yeah, it was," said Prussia with a sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

Prussia could no longer dream. While asleep, he simply lost consciousness by shutting his sensors to feed into the processor that managed his subconscious, which already monitored often repetitive operations like an autopilot. Theoretically he did not need to sleep at all, but it was a good way to conserve energy and make time pass quicker.

He was awoken by a pulse of information that fed in from his subconscious, alerting him of a change in engine sounds. The first thing he saw when his eyes clicked on was the orange surface of a huge rocky wasteland 5000 miles beneath him. The surface was dotted with dark craters and long dry canyons with steep walls that were fed by rivers that had ceased to flow millennia before humans or nations could ever glimpse at them. Craggy rust-coloured mountains of heights well beyond any on Earth jutted up far from the canyons in haphazard formations like scrunched up paper. Situated at the foot of one such mountain was a huge cylindrical hole with almost the same diameter as the mountain it was situated beside. It was a colossal mine, continuously being widened by bucket wheel excavators that looked like roving skyscrapers. Their spiked wheels ate ravenously at the walls of the pit they were digging, soon to devour into the neighbouring mountain.

As the spaceship began to descend, belly first, bright flashes erupted outside of the circular window upon contact with the planet's atmosphere. The spaceship shook and rattled. Prussia knew that if he was still made of flesh and blood, he would be feeling motion sick. A sudden flash of white light occurred just outside the window, and Prussia knew that if his eyes were still that of a human, he would be temporarily blinded by it. He looked over at Poseidon, who smiled awkwardly at Prussia. He said, "I've never seen a machine sleep before."

Prussia turned to look back out the window. The flashes had ceased now that they had descended further into Mars's atmosphere and slowing down using huge speed breaks that unfolded from the wings and loud rumbling reverse thrust from the engines. After slowing the spaceship to Mach 2, the thrust reversers retracted shut and the speed breaks folded in the blink of an eye. Jolting forward, the spaceship began banking left towards its destination.

As it banked to the left, Prussia had an even closer view at the surface of Mars. It reminded him of the deserts he had visited on Earth, only much colder.

The excavators drew closer, looking just as menacing as they were from space. Behind them, partially hidden by the mountain, a settlement came into view. Grey and brown cubic buildings and chimneys dotted haphazardly on the foot of the huge mountain. "That's Poseidon 6," said Poseidon proudly, "the sixth Poseidon mining settlement on Mars."

Prussia could see a telecommunications tower, supported by cables, that stood tall over the sett like a colossal titan. Red rotating Beacon lights were situated atop of the tower, alerting the spaceship's computer of its location. On the edge of the sett was a rectangular landing pad supported by metal stilts with hydraulic shock absorbers.

At a lower altitude, the spaceship banked around the mining pit. The deeper regions of the pit were devoid of light, making it difficult for Prussia to perceive how deep it was. "What are you mining?" He asked Poseidon.

"Uranium," Poseidon replied.

Thrust began to be vectored downwards as the spaceship swung around for final approach. Had the thrust nozzles not been set to allow VTOL capabilities, the spaceship would have stalled and crashed. The thrust in the engines decreased, allowing the spaceship to drop quickly. The sudden loss of gravitational force triggered Prussia's senses to become heightened again, but returned to normal when the landing gear hit the pad with a boom. The undercarriage and landing pad stilts did their job by absorbing the impact.

The landing pad began to descend below the Martian surface into a small subterranean spaceport, a necessity in a planet with such an inhospitable atmosphere. The spaceport's interior reminded Prussia of the gigantic aircraft hangars he had encountered during his time as a nation. It was dimly lit, with a terminal waiting area on the far side. A heavy airtight door slid shut behind the spaceship, followed by an alarm sounding to show that the spaceport floor was now pressurized with safe to breathe air.

Once the elevator had reached the floor, the spaceship taxied to a parking place. A ding sounded throughout the cabin as the doors opened. Stairs unfolded out of the doorways to a yellow walkway that led to the terminal. "Welcome to Poseidon 6," said Poseidon briskly as he stood up to retrieve a briefcase from the overhead locker and swung it by his side.

Prussia and Poseidon entered the terminal through a bulkhead door. Its interior was illuminated by neon lights in the centre of the ceiling. "So how do I get closer to the Outer Solar System from here?" Asked Prussia.

"There's a spaceport on a Tainan city to the northeast of here along the Tiu Valles canyon," Poseidon said thoughtfully.

Sirens began to scream. Poseidon stopped talking and looked to either side of himself vigilantly. "The facility has been breached," he said with fear in his voice as faint booms could be heard in the distence. "Is it those bastards at Lambert-Reyjord? Tainan Corporation?!" Poseidon said frantically. The aforementioned names were corporations that Prussia vaguely knew about. Behind them, deep thumps on the ginormous door to the planet's surface began to echo all around them. "Be advised," said a casual computer voice on the terminal's loudspeakers, "unknown forces have been spotted on the surface. Protocol 2 is now in effect. Please exit the terminal." Flickering holograms began to display 'PROTOCOL 2' in red while the message repeated itself.

Poseidon began to hurredly walk out of the terminal's exit, into a wide tunnel with a hyperloop rapid transit station situated on the left. "Protocol 2 means the facility is under lockdown and the bulkheads are armed to close at the first sign of any intrusion. The security forces will prepare to meet the intruders and have authority to detain or kill anybody they deem a threat."

Easily catching up with Poseidon, Prussia demanded, "tell me how to get out of here! I need to get to the Tainan city."

"Are you crazy?! On the surface they'll shoot you without thinking twice! And that self-healing polymer you've got isn't exactly bulletproof," shouted Poseidon, having to raise his voice to be heard over the alarms.

"It doesn't seem like I'll be much safer down here either," said Prussia, who was also having to raise his mechanical voice, "tell me how to get to the surface."

"We're under lockdown, all airlocks are closed and guarded. There's no way out right now," said Poseidon.

Prussia suddenly stood still while Poseidon kept his quick walking, before noticing that Prussia was no longer standing beside him and turned to look at him. "If they're trying to get in through the spaceport, then that's how I'll get out!" He said, rather impressed at his own idea.

"Fine, good luck out there," said Poseidon worredly, "I need to stay and make sure the facility survives."

"Good luck," said Prussia quickly before turning and running full-speed back into the terminal. Poseidon watched him go, before making his way deeper into the facility. Prussia meanwhile slowed himself down to a holt when he arrived at a window in the terminal beside the bulkhead that gave him a good view of the spaceport. Three sleek spaceships, designed for carrying passengers and supplies were lined up in a neat row while robots dilligently connected fuel pipes, loaded cargo and performed maintainence operations. They worked like clockwork, unaware of the invasion force above them.

"Those machines are just drones. They're not capable of receiving information of what's happening outside. They only know spaceships and how to maintain them," said Gilbird. The robots reminded Prussia of slaves that were purposefully kept ignorant.

The elevator fell without the spaceport becoming safely depressurized, causing an explosive decompression. It was impossible to open the elevator from the surface without breaking the hydraulic mechanism with explosives, so it made a loud thump when it hit the floor, dented and detached from the cables that kept it in place. Spaceships, which had not been restrained down, skidded across the concrete. The robots also deviated from their assigned positions, falling into a state of disarray when many tipped over and did not have self-righting mechanisms to get back on their magnetic tracks. Fuel spilled from pipes that had not been shut off and paint spewed from a hose that was no longer pointed to a fuselage. But everything stopped moving when the pressure equalised.

Prussia then looked on as few spheroid drones entered from the surface, each fitted with a camera and a laser turret. They seemed to coordinate their directions together, darting around like hover flies and communicating in code. Drones like those are intelligent but in a low classification of sentience. Like advanced animatronics, every action they took was pre-determined or relatively simple. Those drones knew nothing of what they were doing and why, and instead simply followed their programmed orders.

Without warning, panels on the walls and ceiling slid open to reveal 50mm charged laser cannons with lenses that were already targeting the drones, which knew no fear because they did not have the programming for it. Half a second later, the spaceport beyond the window was a cacophony of noise and light. Lasers screamed like sirens and gunfire growled away. When the light faded, smoke was still present so Prussia switched his eyes to infrared. He could see all three spaceships were wrecked with crumpled fuesleges and collapsed undercarriages. The leading edges of wings were damaged beyond air and spaceworthyness and thrust nozzles looked to be hanging by a thread. The maintainence robots and drones were utterly obliterated with fragments strewn around as though swept up and deposited by a tornado. But the laser turrets had also sustained damage in the recent melee. Their barrels were broken and targeting systems rendered faulty. The drones, although destroyed, had succeeded in clearing the way for the larger fighting force.

Ropes unfurled from the surface and soldiers began to rappel down to the elevator/landing pad that they had rendered inoperable. They were transhumans, Prussia could tell because they were too tall and wide to be regular humans that had not had their evolution hijacked by their employer's scientists. Their faces were covered by the same helmets as the shooters Prussia encountered on Earth. Heavy weapons constructed quickly into the palms of their hands seemingly out of thin air. Some of their hands folded away and were replaced by crowbars, drills and sawblades.

Then someone else descended into the subterranean spaceport with rockets on the soles of boots. The flames from the rocket boosters faded a couple of centimetres off the figure looked different to the rest. Their helmet had a blue visor with lenses that switched directions like chameleon eyes and a respirator that looked like a fighter pilot's oxygen mask. But it was less tall and more thin than the transhuman soldiers, as though it had been barely modified and was instead an genuine organic human. It's armor might even be plating, instead of a replacement for skin. It looked from left to right, revealing wires and transmitters on the back of the helmet. Then it pointed to the terminal, and they all began marching towards Prussia.

"Hide," said Gilbird urgently, "this is a fight you will not win."

Prussia looked at the oncoming soldiers and said grimly, "you're right." He twisted his head around looking for a place to hide. The closed bulkhead meant that he could not leave the terminal, but he noticed a ladder to a roof access hatch in the corner of the hall behind a row of benches. "How convenient," said Gilbird as Prussia ran towards it. His hands clamped around the rungs before any overheating warnings activated in his head. The climbing mechanism activated and he ascended to the ceiling. When close enough, he reached out with one arm to open the hatch, only to find that it would not budge. Processing what to do next occured in the blink of an eye when he shoved the hatch open in a tenacious shove of highly compressed hydraulic fluid. The hatch swung on its hinges and his arm retraced with a hiss and an explusion of steam.

Objective complete; the hatch was open. He proceded to climb to the roof, switching away from the climbing mechanism and began laying low on the roof. He hid behind a metal panel and heard the sound of glass smashing and footsteps making their way through the terminal. Prussia knew he would be safe from any infrared cameras or heartbeat sensors, but he was not invisible. He detected a couple of metallic thumps, followed by a clang and crash. The footsteps then faded away. "They must have taken off the bulkhead door and progressed further into the facility," Gilbird remarked.

The spaceport now seemed eerily quiet. Prussia hopped off the roof and headed towards the elevator, rolling when he dropped to the floor. Robot guts crunched under his feet as he strode. He paused to stare at the cracked outer casing of a drone and, for some reason, started to feel sorry for it. Drones were used for a lot of humanity's dirty work, without a choice or knowledge of why. The words 'advanced animatronics' popped up in his mind. Why was he feeling sorry for a machine that worked like a clockwork toy? In a short process he dismissed the sympathy and kept walking to the elevator, stepping on the round composite casing as he went.

Ropes that had been used to rappel down still hung over the elevator. Prussia looked up to see the orange sky above him and clung to the nearest rope. He had never climbed a rope since a testing chamber shortly after his mechanization. But the ability for his limbs to work together to carry him up a rope had not been deleted, so he began to climb.

But Prussia had barely ascended two metres before something grabbed his shoulder and dragged him down. Reacting as fast as his programming could, Prussia landed on his feet and twisted his body around to look at whatever had yanked him off the rope. He saw the mysterious humanoid soldier, standing uncomfortably close to him. It sent his senses into haywire as a 'panic mode' was triggered. The person who stood before Prussia had seemingly materialized right behind him, for he had not sensed the change in air pressure or any bodyheat of someone behind him. What should be physically impossible had just happened. His circuits strained to comprehend this new information.

A high-power laser pistol unfolded out of his opponent's armored hand. The pistol's construction took less than a second, but Prussia had become so hypersensitive that it might as well have taken a minute because Prussia sent that soldier cartwheeling to the floor in a single punch to the face. He was hoping to crack the helmet visor, but caused no visible damage. The pistol's construction was interrupted as it glitched for a moment in the palm of his opponent's hand before disappearing.

Undeterred, his opponent jumped to its feet and charged at Prussia. Clearly this would be a difficult fight, and Prussia had determined that the only way out was up to the planet's surface. He clung to the nearest rope and hauled himself up it. His opponent effortlessly reached the same height as him. A combat knife unfolded from the wrist, punching forward like a battering ram. The blade targeted Prussia, poised to strike. Prussia scanned his opponent for a weak spot. His eyes focused on what looked like a respirator pipe leading into the helmet. His arm lashed out while his hand clamped around the pipe.

The knife stopped moving, so did his opponent. Noticing the effectiveness of his move, Prussia twisted the pipe, puncturing it. A hiss could be heard as oxygen leaked out. The soldier looked at Prussia as he did so, and Prussia looked back at the helmet visor. The soldier let go of the rope a few seconds later, but Prussia held the now-broken oxygen pipe. It snapped in half and the soldier's limp body fell to the ground with a thud.

Prussia then climbed up fast as he could without looking back. When he reached the top of the huge rectangular hole he dug his fingers into the dry ground as he hauled himself out. He picked himself up, standing on two feet on the surface of Mars.


	5. Chapter 5

"It's out of our hands now. You and I can't both exist," said Germany matter-of-factly.

"We can. I'll find a way to keep on living. I'll never disappear. I was created to thrive and that is what I'll do," replied Prussia, with the voice of a desperate maniac.

"Prussia, you..." Germany began.

"I've already listened to your little criticisms. So save your breath. Is a tree not a tree if it does everything a tree would do, but is artificial and not organic? What if it's ten times more efficient than any tree before?" Prussia rambled on.

Germany decided to remain on topic and not squander over what an 'efficient tree' would be. "What I'm saying is, you won't be Prussia anymore. The territory your soul was bonded with is now defunct, and people who were once your citizens will move on and stop believing in you. You can keep your physical form using whatever science can throw at you, but Prussia will be gone. Like a ghost. A relic, alone," said Germany solemnly.

Prussia laughed, "do you think that's what this is about? That I want to remain a country? That's horse shit. I'm trying to live for as long as I can, brother. We nations are gods among humans, but it won't be too long until humanity loses faith in countries. How many decades do you think it'll be until you're reduced to a few paragraphs in a history book or a blotch on a long timeline?"

"Join me and we can lead the way into a automaton utopia. We'll engineer a way to avoid the decay that our parents and grandparents had to endure. Humans will soon bow down to us, their robot overlords," said Prussia, collating his thoughts.

Germany said nothing for a few seconds until finally saying, "you're insane. It's no wonder the humans had to cut you loose. You're too proud to accept your fate."

"A computer in my head will cure my insanity," hissed Prussia.

Germany scoffed, "then talk to me after that's happened."

"Fine by me. Bye," said Prussia coldly.

Prussia hung up and exited a phone booth onto a rainy street corner in former East Berlin. He clicked open a can of beer, his sixth one that day, but found his arm slow to respond when lifting the can to his lips. His hand then began to sting like a paper cut. Looking closely at the back of his hand, Prussia watched in horror as a strip of skin peeled away. That hand deteriorated over the next decade, so he had it replaced by a bionic animatronic hand. 

As Prussia's body disintegrated, he continued replacing himself. It became an addiction. And once there was hardly any organic tissue left, he replaced his artificial organs and limbs with faster and stronger versions. His old bionic hands were the first to go, replaced by hands that were larger,could turn 360 degrees and had a grip strength that exceeded 400 pounds. Software updates became available for his brain, which he would download at the first opportunity. It felt good to be a machine, or at least, that's what his machine brain told him.

An aeon or so after he first noticed himself deteriorating, Prussia walked on the surface of Mars. His heavy boots, which could not be removed, left a long track of footprints on the otherwise untouched barren wasteland on his way to the Tainan City.

After climbing from the debris of the wrecked subterranean spaceport, he turned and saw a dropship banking lazily through the sky like a massive whale. Prussia then hoisted up the ropes that soldiers had previously rappelled down, then fled. As the distance between him and the mining settlement increased, he could properly observe the damage inflicted on the facility. Multiple points were breached and smoke rose high into the dry Martian sky. The colossal bucket wheel excavators worked dauntlessly, undeterred by the onslaught from the unknown enemy while dropships continued to deploy troops and drones. Prussia looked on as one of the excavators came crashing down, crumpling and imploding into a huge cloud of dust.

"Petty savages," said Gilbird. Prussia turned away and continued trudging through the cold desert of a planet. He no longer needed oxygen to survive, and could therefore stroll comfortably without having to worry about what gases composed Mars's inhospitable atmosphere. If Prussia was still made of organic matter he would probably feel as though he were perpetually drowning, breathing air with hardly any oxygen. He would loose consciousness, but not die.

As he kept on walking, his leg motors functioned without the computer in his head having to tell them to do so. It also no longer had to send information to the gyroscope to keep him upright as a subconscious 'autopilot' took over. He only had to intervene when coming across any rocks that he had to walk around or take a particularly large step over.

The Tiu Valles canyon spread from horizon to horizon; an extraordinarily long rift that snaked across the land. On the other side of the canyon, just poking above the horizon, were a few skyscrapers and chimneys. Each had superstructures that elongated them further above the ground. "That's where we're going," remarked Gilbird.

"Yeah, when we find a way across this canyon. I guess Poseidon didn't think this far ahead," said Prussia scornfully.

"Maybe he knows a way across that we haven't thought of," said Gilbird. 

Prussia walked carefully to the edge of the canyon. Peering down precariously, he saw that the depths of the canyon were darkened, far enough below the surface to be devoid of light. Switching his eyes to infrared failed to help him gauge the canyon's depth, so he fired a powerful laser into the darkness. It gave him a depth reading of more than a kilometre, way too high to jump and expect a safe landing, even for a machine such as himself that was built to last.

The river that once flowed through the darkness where Prussia's laser shone would have been an incredible sight. It was mighty enough to punch its way through the ground and create this enormous canyon. It took a catastrophe that was even more incredible just to kill it; Mars's prehistoric apocalypse that reduced this canyon from a container of a lush yet powerful force of water to a dried up hulking trench.

"You can clear that in one jump," said Gilbird.

Prussia turned to him, huffing, "that's easy for you to say. You've got wings."

"And this planet's gravity is less than that on Earth," said Gilbird, who flew in circles around Prussia's head. The thought of jumping a canyon reminded him of the testing track he had encountered after the fitting of his first sets of synthetic limbs, when he was still being prodded by scientists and technicians. The test track was to test both his cognitive and athletic abilities. It took place after the computer in his head, a technological marvel, succeeded in passing the Turing Test when time's attrition had completely corroded his old brain's organic tissue. The testing track was situated in the spacious flat Mojave Desert where scientists would sweat in the relentless heat, and he would look on, unfazed by the temperature and proud that he no longer had to worry about such a human bodily function.

There was no need for such vigorous testing after finding the correct way to install these robotic components and how they work. The pioneer phase of the project was completed, and efforts were shifted to improving rather than understanding.

During the testing, Prussia's new legs allowed him to jump a measly two metres, but was not seen as something that needed to be improved. They were strong, impact-absorbing and could walk long distances without malfunctioning, which was what mattered. But that was a long time ago, and Prussia had undergone upgrades since then.

He trudged away from the canyon edge and took a run-up. Mars's weaker gravity took effect, and it looked for a second as though he would succeed. But disappointment settled in when the opposite edge blocked his view of the horizon. A fraction of a second later all he could see was the canyon wall. His fingers jabbed into the rock reflexively, clinging to anywhere they could and locking in place. 

Prussia felt as though he were hanging from a thread. His body swung to the left when he released his right hand from the canyon wall in an effort to haul his body upwards, excreting a large amount of energy just to plant his fingers into any gaps or grooves. He repeated this precarious process with his left hand, his feet scrabbling for a place to gain footing. He was almost thrown off into the darkness when his hand gave way on one occasion when he was reaching into a crack above a rock that gave way and tumbled down, leaving him hanging on one arm for longer than anticipated. But in a hiss of smoke, he was grasping firmly at the space the rock had cleared.

Desperation became joy when his synthetic fingers grasped the planet's sandy surface. He pulled himself to the top and rolled before standing up. He brushed some of the dust off of himself, then walked away as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

When the Tainan City loomed towards Prussia from over the dusty horizon, he saw one building that dominated the others. He could barely see the top of the dark grey skyscraper. The top of the building could barely be seen from where he stood, but Prussia could clearly see a cable that went straight upwards to the sky. Drones of varying sizes hovered and skipped around the exterior, sometimes entering and exiting nooks and crannies like puffins on the side of a cliff. A huge dropship, identical to the one he saw back at the attacked Poseidon mining facility, passed over his head and circled the imposingly enormous building. 

The Tainan City was encased by a wall of lasers, so Prussia patiently walked around to find an entry point while ignoring the cameras and gun turrets that were tracking his every move. There was nobody queuing at the nearest gate, nor was it guarded by any officers. When he walked to it, he felt the familiar electronic communication to the microchip ask Gilbert Beilschmidt Y/N. Through his head, Prussia electronically selected Y. In an instant Prussia became immobilised. His arms no longer responded when he tried to move them, as though wires had been severed. A ten barrel gun constructed itself directly above him. Prussia gasped, trying even harder to break free.

The next thing he knew, he was lying on a street corner. He shook and picked himself off the pavement, then spun around. He was in an unfamiliar place and needed situational awareness. The wall of lasers was right behind him, so close that he stumbled forwards a couple of steps in surprise. He then saw someone, perhaps a citizen of this city, standing perfectly still. They were so still that Prussia failed to notice them at first. He walked out from behind the building he was transported next to, out into a main street that led directly to the huge skyscraper he had seen from a distance.

Dozens of citizens stood still, their black cloaks flapping in the gentle breeze and faces hidden. It was an ominous sight, and it made Prussia wonder if he should also be standing still, and what the consequences would be if he didn't. He groaned as an external signal interrupted his thoughts. Someone, or something, was communicating directly into his head. "Successfully..." He heard a voice between his ears that was not his own, "...minimal casualties," a face appeared in his mind, out of nowhere. It was talking. It was definitely humanoid, with eyes concealed by a shiny chrome panel that seemed to be attached to the forehead. Wires led out from that panel, and from the back of the head, in an all manor of directions. A neck and shoulders appeared under the head, along with a black background. The person that Prussia saw had the voice and physical traits of a female.

"The capture and annexation of the Poseidon facility is yet another victory," she said vigorously, "we'll crush the life of that sucker, until he chokes to death on a rejection for Chapter fucking 11!" People clapped and cheered all around Prussia, almost robotically. They seemed well-rehearsed in showing celebration. She continued, "Poseidon's irresponsible mining has destroyed Phobos and Daimos by cracking them to pieces and causing thousands of worker fatalities. Such a disregard to safety has been deemed illegal, by me. Without Tainan intervention, the same thing will happen here on Mars!" People gasped in unison, their gasps lasted exactly three seconds. "This has been a pivotal day Tainan Corporation's place in history's never-ending strife for supremacy. Corporations have succeeded in wiping away the nations that have stunted progress, and now we will kill all who challenge the great and powerful Tainan!" She disappeared from inside Prussia's head as her broadcast ceased. As though released from a trance, people started moving again.

"I suppose that woman is the Tainan Corporation," muttered Prussia to Gilbird, "she's crazy, but I like her."

Prussia traversed the streets of Tainan Corporation's city. All mutated humans wore long cloaks with coats and gloves, with their faces covered by heavy breathing apparatus. It reminded him of cities he had seen in Siberia, where people could die from the harsh conditions if they left their homes without the proper clothing. Transhumans and robots moved much faster. Prussia noticed that the city was circular, with the tallest of the buildings in the centre. Shops and restaurants were pressurised from the Martian atmosphere. A corpse lay rotting beside a dumpster, but nobody paid any attention to it.

As sudden as everybody had started moving, they all stood still again. Prussia prepared himself for another broadcast. The woman, still endowed with her chrome plate and wires, appeared in his head again. "This is Tainan," she announced, "I sense a discrepancy. There is someone who should not be here. Someone who should not exist. Someone who belongs to a race that dyed out in the dark ages, before I liberated this city from the UN. He is deadly and allied with Poseidon, and must be taken out."


	6. Chapter 6

"She's talking about me, isn't she," said Prussia. He would have rolled his eyes if his internal mechanics would allow it.

An instant later, an innumerable amount of gun barrels were pointed directly at him; too many for his digital lenses to track. Three gunships circled like swift vultures while turrets unfolded and materialised. Prussia remained still, trying not to provoke anything to shoot him while he contemplated his next move. Transhuman soldiers, armed with rocked launchers and sniper rifles that protruded out from their bodies appeared at the rooftops. Just then a single, familiar humanoid, descended in front of Prussia with rockets on the soles of its boots. Two blue dots behind a helmet visor seemed to be staring straight into Prussia's eyes. Prussia blinked and flinched, preparing for whatever was about to happen. It then lunged at him. Prussia raised a fist to it's respirator, but found himself being pushed to the ground by his opponent grabbing his shoulder.

He fell to the ground, except he didn't. Everything went white and he was standing upright and alone. He was barely able to react, before he saw a room unfurl and solidify all around him. The walls resembled a circuit board, adorned with countless flashing lights and electrical sparks. Thick wires of a multitude of colours ran across the floor like tree roots. "I see only code, and in the code I saw a sentient relic. Are you a spirit or a virus?," said the voice of Tainan, in Prussia's head.

"What's going on? Show yourself!" Prussia demanded.

"Not many can escape my grasp. Only those who have transcended into the unknown by outliving their time and purpose," said Tainan, unseen but heard perfectly. Prussia stumbled across the wires, his eyes analysing each one individually. As he stumbled further he found wires hanging like jungle vines, some smooth and others frayed. He ducked under some, and lifted some out of the way until he came to a clearing. When he fully stepped into the clearing, Prussia saw the rather ominous sight of Tainan in front him. She wore a white robe and appeared to be unhealthily skinny. Her breasts, if one could even call them that, looked too solid to belong to a human. The metal panel on her head jutted out further than it had looked when she transmitted into Prussia's head. The way it covered her eyes, like a submarine periscope, caused Prussia to wonder whether or not she could actually see him. Behind her, out of a huge window, was Mars's bleak desert-like surface.

"And I can sense you perfectly fine," she said, her mouth moving but Prussia still only heard her voice in his head, "I sense your presence, down to the very last electron in your CPU."

Prussia's AI programming analysed his human personality perfectly; Prussia put on a brave facade. "That's enough claptrap. Now why did you bring me, uh, here?"

"Because we are the same," she replied.

"Huh?" Prussia was puzzled. He felt his CPU strain to make sense of what that could mean, until it came to a few possible conclusions.

A few ticks of mechanisms could be heard, and the panel detached from Tainan's head. It pivoted to the side, trailing wires behind it. Prussia saw two needles, roughly four inches long and attached to the panel. They became removed from empty eye sockets as the panel was removed from over Tainan's face. The needles spun like drill bits before coming to a halt. Her eye sockets (if you could call them that) were two black dots, just big enough for the needles to fit into them. 

She turned her head so that both black dots were staring straight at Prussia, when two chestnut brown eyes de-pixelated and hovered over her forehead, before immersing themselves into her face, becoming part of her. A long straight haircut of equally brown colour with a long ahoge also de-pixelated, settling onto her head. "I nurtured Tainan Corporation. And when the end of nations came, I subsumed and became Tainan Corporation, but not without loosing my body. And now I am that I am, Prussia of Old Europe," said Tainan, with the hint of a smile.

Prussia now recognized her from the depths of his memory. Her and Prussia had never been close, but he had seen her around in the international community. "Taiwan," he whispered, and she looked proud at hearing her old name, "How are you not dead?"

"I lost my physical presence, but remained as information. And that's all nations, maybe even corporations should be: information. How could a human construct manifest into a physical body?"

"I never really thought about how," said Prussia, "like gravity, there are many things we just don't fully understand."

"But now we know how. We were called into existence by an unseen compelling force. It's taken building the tallest skyscraper this side of the Asteroid Belt just to harness it! The vigour, the energy. It's incredible, the things I see and the emotions I feel, a million times per second!"

Tainan took a few steps towards Prussia. Or rather, she glitched towards him. Pixels formed in front of her as she walked for her to step into, while pixels behind her vanished. "A million times per second? That's impossible. You're insane! Immortality can do that to you. Trust me, I know," said Prussia.

Tainan laughed, "You think I'm insane? I see you still have all of your old personality traits programmed into you, including your inability to distinguish reality from your own imagination."

"Reality?" Asked Prussia.

Tainan continued talking as though she had not heard Prussia, "and with this unseen compelling force came digital-induced omnipotence. I am the deus ex machina. I see everything, Prussia, the past and future and all that's in between. All except you, for you have exceeded your time and purpose."

Prussia suddenly felt rather smug, but stopped when the room shook while the sound of a crash could he heard from below. "What's going on?" Demanded Tainan. The walls and ceiling de-materialised away, leaving nothing but a floor below and a seemingly-floating ceiling above Tainan and Prussia. They both looked on as ferocious battle took place all around them.

A formation of dropships were met with a volley of laser fire, taking down three of them and sending them crashing down into the buildings below. Flashes and smoke littered the streets while drones ascended, swarming the dropships like killer bees and dismantled them in-flight, only to be blasted apart by explosives fired from larger rocket-powered fighter aircraft. One of the dropships swung close to deploy troops, and Prussia read the unmistakable Poseidon logo on the side. Tainan was astonished, "How did I not foresee this?"

"Maybe your deus ex machina is not as accurate as you thought," chuckled Prussia.

"No, this battle has to be a result of your actions!" Shouted Tainan, her voice's frequency becoming lower. She looked right at Prussia as her her hair was lit up by explosions.

"Is that so?" Asked Prussia. He knew that the answer was likely to be a 'yes'.

Tainan nodded, "which is why I must subsume you, Prussia," she held out her hand, which glowed electric blue.

Prussia did not like the sound of being 'subsumed'. "W-wait a second. What are you suggesting?"

"You will become part of Tainan Corporation. You need to be controlled, slowed down," said Tainan urgently.

"Fuck that," spat Prussia.

Tainan sighed, "is that so? Then it's time for you to die. Funny how you had the will to undergo extensive innovations to survive, yet you never had the will to give up and do what was necessary: accept your fate and die."

An instant later Prussia's IFF switched Tainan from 'unknown' to an utter bitching 'enemy', which snapped his defences into action. "Looks like I've inadvertently damaged you and your precious building. Will you recover?" He retorted, trying to stall Tainan while vigilantly waiting for her first strike. Distant pops and nearby booms echoed from all directions as a battle waged all around the building, which quaked from the impact of explosions that were too close for comfort. Prussia wondered if Tainan's (almost) deus ex machina will survive Poseidon's counter-attack.

"Corporations are like nations. We don't always die when we're killed in battle. But that's not the only similarity we share..." Tainan flickered into nothing in a fraction of a second. Before Prussia could react a warning message popped up in his peripheral vision that alerted him of a wound on the nape of his neck, followed by a warning alarm in his head. He dismissed them both and automatically shut off oil supply to that area of his body to prevent further leakage. Tainan stood behind Prussia with her shallow artificial eyes narrowed. Prussia, who had had enough of her, readied the hydraulics in his left arm to punch her in the face. But right when his fist was mere centimetres away from the space between her eyes, she flickered to three metres away from him.

"Nations could travel effortlessly anywhere within their territory, and now corporations can do the same," said Tainan smugly. She held out her hand horizontally and waved it forwards in a flat clockwise motion, as though expecting something to happen. "Initiating dark energy cannons," Tainan announced angrily. But nothing happened. The building creaked and listed and a nonchalant automated warning message was transmitted into both of their heads simultaneously, "Outer casing has been breached. Certain digital construction & materialisation systems may be effected. Please stand by." The building quaked from another impact and listed another couple of degrees.

"Arrgh," Tainan groaned in pain, stumbling and flickering. Her body's resolution decreased and increased erratically. Seeing this as an opportunity, Prussia grabbed her by the neck and held her twitching feet above the floor with his strong hydraulic arm. Tainan tried to disappear from his grasp, but was unable to do so as the machines that perpetuated her lucid physical form began to falter. Tainan looked genuinely concerned for the first time.

Prussia unlocked his elbow and shoulder joints to throw her against a wall on the far side of the room. When she hit the wall with a click, her resolution osculated, then dropped to even lower. Her eyes and hair switched off permanently as she slowly picked herself up. "You bastard," she spat, "why don't you just fucking die already?" The building creaked and swayed, "nobody needs you alive you lonesome unsung relic! Do you even know of the illusions that the scientists and your brother set up to keep you from going insane? The smoke and mirrors that you're surrounded with just so you do not malfunction!"

Prussia ignored what Tainan was saying. He strode to her, stamping down on her flickering torso. There was one question on his mind, and he knew that if he did not ask it now, the opportunity to do so might never arise again. "Can you tell me what happened to Germany?"

"He-he travelled to the edge of interstellar space to escape the end of nations. That is all I know," coughed Tainan. Her eyes were expressionless, but her voice sounded fearful.

"I see," said Prussia. He removed his heavy steel boot from Tainan as he detected smoke that had started to seep into the room. His subconscious processor overrode the option to feel pity for Tainan, deeming it unnecessary and a hindrance to his overall efficiency.

Then the building began to break apart. Prussia heard multiple crashes and felt shock waves rippling through the floors. It tilted and a panel behind Tainan became dislodged and broke away behind Tainan's writhing and painfully pixilated body. "It's no wonder the humans tried to do away with you. Destruction only follows in your wake," she croaked.

"I don't care," said Prussia as nonchalantly as he could, "I don't want to die, so I won't."

The dislodged panel revealed the true extent of the ferocious battle that looked like a full-scale war. Hundreds of tiny contrails erupted from the weapons bays airborne missile carriers, only for all of them to be obliterated by projectiles from rooftops and the side of the building that housed Tainan's great machines. Occasionally a missile scored a hit, scattering debris flying in all directions. Apartment blocks burned and fell while citizens were already being rounded up. A dark-blue Poseidon delta-winged fighter aircraft swung close for an attack run, but was set on fire by a laser cannon. It left a long trail of black smoke from all three of its engines it careened into the building's side, right underneath where Prussia and Tainan were, either because the fire had sent it out of control or because the pilot was suicidal. The blast sent the building leaning further. 

Tainan was thrown out from where the panel once was. She tried to materialise her way out of the fall, but was unable to. The building that gave her a physical form was far too damaged to handle such a function.

She didn't make a sound as she fell. Prussia peered out from over the perilous peek and watched as she fell away into the streets that were rife with contention and carnage. He was too high up to hear or even see her hitting the ground. Gilbird, who had been watching Prussia said, "she reminds me of how you were back in the day. What do you think she meant by 'illusions'?"

"I'm not too sure," replied Prussia. He paused and analysed his surroundings. "We need to get out of here. This building's on fire!" He moved as quickly as he could through the twisted wires to find an exit, switching his eyes to infrared to see through the smoke. The floor gave way under his feet, sending him tumbling downwards and believing that the building was collapsing. Prussia felt rather disappointed that his long story was ending, but that disappointment turned to relief when his metal feet hit a sturdy floor.

Prussia brushed himself off and noticed he was now standing in a steel corridor that was illuminated by rotating red lighting. There was a dead end behind him, so he sprinted forwards through the corridor. It reminded him of being on one of his old U-Boats, back when navy submarines needed humans, and back when he had a navy. With his senses on high alert, he detected the faint sound of electric motors from a fair distance. Prussia's feet brought him to a halt where the corridor intersected with another. "Electric motors? By the way they're stopping and starting, they could be maintenance and loading bots, like the ones at Poseidon," said Gilbird.

"Yeah, or they could be some kind of Tainan weapon or booby trap or something," hissed Prussia. He warily peered into the intersecting corridor, where the sounds of electrics was coming from. To his amazement, he saw Tainan robots diligently loading crates and containers into the cargo door of a massive spaceship. It had three long pyramid-shaped engines under each of it's high delta wings that towered over the robots, which were on a platform by the side of the cargo door. The spaceship had Tainan's blue and red logo, complete with the corporation's symbol of a star cut in half, painted on the fuselage and adorned by scratches from space dust.

"I wonder if that will get us to the outer solar system," said Gilbird.

"Only one way to find out!" Said Prussia eagerly as he waltzed into the hangar. An alarm sounded the moment his augmented synthetic foot touched the ground. The loading robots ceased their clockwork motions. The conveyor belts stopped moving. Laser barrels slid from the robotic arms, aiming directly at Prussia. He ducked behind the a stack of crates to avoid a barrage of beams that travelled at light-speed with the energy capacity to fry his circuits in an instant.

"Why is everything trying to kill you?" Asked Gilbird.

"I don't know, maybe it's because I'm not meant to be here!" Prussia shouted while lasers clinked on the metal and whizzed over his head. But they suddenly stopped when lights flickered and went out. A deep rumble and creak could be heard from under Prussia's feet as the building tilted a degree or two. The spaceship, with its cargo door still wide open, skidded a few metres. The dim lighting from within the cargo bay was the only source of light in the entire hangar, Prussia and Gilbird would have been in pitch black without it.

In the dim light, Prussia switched his vision to infrared and carefully walked out from behind the crates. All the robots stood still like statues. "The power's out," he said to himself and Gilbird, "Poseidon's military must have knocked out the generator, or whatever this building has." He turned his attention to the spaceship, "it must be running on auxiliary power, for that light to not go out."

"That means there might be some way to get its engines going!" Said Gilbird hopefully. Prussia nodded, and ran to the cargo door, not wanting to be anywhere near those ominously still, armed robots. The cargo door was comprised of a gull-wing door and a conveyor belt that led onto the platform. When Prussia walked aboard he saw a complex system of claws and conveyor belts, designed to load cargo as efficiently as possible. He heightened his sensors in preparation for a some kind of anti-intrusion device, but none came.

Beside the door frame was panel with a tiny circuit breaker. Prussia clicked the circuit breaker back into place, and to his amazement, the slowly closed. The sound of an intricate locking mechanism could be heard, followed by the engines howling into life.

He had just initiated the launch sequence.


	7. Chapter 7

Nighttime fell on Mars. Unlike on Earth, there was no formidable-sized moon to reflect much of the sun's light.

The electricity had failed at the ruined Poseidon facility after the generators were all strafed, plunging the battered towers and broken machinery into darkness, only for it to be partially illuminated periodically by explosions peeking over the horizon like miniature sunrises. While Tainan City was attacked, three flights of unarmed Poseidon drones broke their neat formations to search for salvageable parts, machines that were not damaged beyond repair, and human survivors hiding in air pockets created by heavy bulkheads deep within the complex.

Drones' scanners swiftly slipped over twisted metal and corpses' frozen faces. One of them detected the heartbeat of a man lying in the open, in defiance of everything that it had been programmed to know about human survival. The drone's vectored thrust brought it to a standstill, then it descended towards where the heartbeat was coming from. Despite the fact that no human could survive more than 90 seconds without protective equipment, the unmistakable heartbeat activated a rescue protocol.

The drone ascended and continued its task while a larger, cuboid-shaped personnel carrier swooped down over the rubble and scooped the survivor away into its airtight interior. While the survivor recovered from his oxygen starvation and hypothermia, the drone hovered and awaited for its next orders.

Meanwhile, Prussia was about to leave the planet entirely. He was amazed that something so massive could move so quickly as the spaceship accelerated through a tunnel within the now structurally unsound building. He saw tiny lights whizzing by through a tiny window in the closed door on the side of the fuselage. Suddenly the lights were gone as the spaceship emerged from the tunnel, leaving a wake of blue flames behind it.

Heavy smoke stacks still billowed all across the city, but the fighting didn't seem quite as intense as it had been previously. Perhaps the two corporations were running low on both fighters and supplies within the city's vicinity. With a jolt, the spaceship nosed down towards the city to gain airspeed before beginning a near-vertical climb upwards into the stars, engines howling. As he had been during the acceleration, Prussia was pushed to the wall right at the back of the cabin by the extreme G-forces, at the mercy of whatever flightpath the spaceship was programmed to take. Prussia was in for one hell or a ride.

Thinking he must be clear of the exhausted battlezone, Prussia calmed down from his previous state of alertness and let the acceleration push his body against the wall. But to his horror and surprise, he detected something moving outside the small window. Craning his neck against the G-force of such a steep, fast ascend into space, he saw a sleek swept-wing fighter craft jettison twin RATO bottles, having just caught up with the cargo spaceship. It didn't bare either Poseidon nor Tainan markings. Instead, it was painted grey with a black underside. The cockpit canopy resembled that of a craft flown by a human pilot rather than a computer. But Prussia's attention was quickly drawn to the under-nose laser cannon turret that swivelled its barrel straight at him.

The gun seemed to Prussia as though it were pointing right between his eyes. Prussia stared down the barrel, then back at the cockpit, straining his senses to find out who (or what) the brazen pilot was. Yet, he was unable to do so; the craft was too far away and had a well-insulated cockpit. But for some reason he was sure the pilot was staring back at him.

It seemed a catastrophe was less than a second away, when the cargo spaceship jettisoned an emptied external fuel tank from below the fuselage. The engines gave a boost of thrust, propelling the more aerodynamic machine out of the thin atmosphere and into space. The smaller craft, however, free from its RATO bottles and having spent much of its comparably meagre fuel supply catching up to the cargo ship and matching its speed, stalled and nosed over backwards. The light from its single thrust nozzle was extinguished while ailerons, stabilators and the pilot wrestled with the laws of physics to regain control over the powerless fighter.

Prussia was safe; the danger was evaded. The speeding cargo ship had broken away from Mars's atmosphere, leaving the battlezone behind. As the crushing acceleration force weakened, he sat himself down on the steel floor. "Will I ever find Germany in all this chaos?" He said out loud.

Gilbird fluttered to Prussia from behind a stack of crates. "Don't worry, you'll find him," said Gilbird positively, landing in front of him and folding its wings away.

"What makes you so sure?" Prussia scoffed.

"We know, in one way or another, some your kind have survived the end of nations. And Germany has existed within the in the internet's reach. He is out there," replied Gilbird.

"Yeah, I know that," Prussia reached out his right arm stroked his only friend from head to tail feathers, his intricate finger mechanisms allowing such delicate movements, "but that doesn't mean I can determine his precise location."

"You've got all the time you need, Gil," said Gilbird.

Prussia leant his head back and laughed a mechanical, maniacal, synthesised cackle. "Now that is true," Prussia said after finally calming down from his laughter.

"Besides," continued Gilbird, "you love your brother, even after everything he did to you. Your love will help you find him."

Prussia nodded in agreement as Gilbird's words sent Prussia's computerised mind sifting through its extensive memory archives to a memory response it had triggered.

The memory occurred an aeon ago, but if he recalled correctly, it was a Tuesday: As usual, Dr. Schäfer stared at her clipboard while sipping her mid-morning coffee. She will return to her clipboard in the afternoon while sipping her mid-afternoon coffee. Prussia lay still and limbless on an operating table in front of Dr. Schäfer, watching her through the cameras that were connected into his head through a cable spaghetti below the table. His flamboyant silver hair had to be shaved off for brain surgery, but tiny whiskers were already beginning to poke through his naked scalp. The cameras should have been off, but Prussia switched them on with his brain. Unbeknownst to scientists like, Dr. Schäfer, he was very much able to watch them when they thought he was in a state of unconscious sensory deprivation.

His lip reading skills, however, were not brilliant. But Prussia was making every effort to learn, having no microphones to listen in on what they were saying.

There were three cameras that his brain had access to. One was in the top left corner of the room facing Dr. Schäfer, the other was in the top right corner of the room facing him. The other was positioned outside the room where Prussia lay, in the corridor which led to the main lab room and engineering workshop in the research facility that he had paid for with leftover money he had obtained from German taxpayers.

Prussia admired Dr. Schäfer's brilliance in her field. She was dismissed from an artificial intelligence solutions company in California after designing, and attempting to persuade her superiors to allow the production of, operating systems for robots that broke the Laws of Robotics. She deemed such laws to be arbitrary, but her bosses were too dogmatic to agree with her. Prussia plucked her from the application pool when she moved back to her home town near the Polish border. Dr. Schäfer reminded Prussia of another woman he was once acquainted with, which was initially one of the reasons why he hired her.

As if on cue, Dr. Akagi, another scientist, limped down the corridor to the operating room. Even with much of his face covered by his hair, Prussia could still tell that he looked rather fed up. It was also clear to Prussia that Dr. Akagi was yet to wash the bloodstains from his white labcoat. Prussia switched to the camera that faced Dr. Schäfer as soon as Dr. Akagi flung the door open.

"That thing tried to kill me again!" Dr. Akagi is believed to have said while pointing at Prussia's motionless body. Prussia's lip reading missed words here and there, but he could sill fill in the gaps with his intuition.

"Oh yeah, I read the report. You're lucky you had time to hit the kill switch!" Said Dr. Schäfer. She remained seated.

"I did, once again," huffed Dr. Akagi, "but hey, me and my team think we're near a breakthrough on those artificial fingers it has! We want to see if that robotic hand will stroke an animal the same way a human will."

"I hope it won't use the robotic hands to strangle me again," replied Dr. Schäfer, who had also had to hit Prussia's kill switch numerous times. The two scientists both shared an awkward laugh. Prussia, meanwhile, could not understand what they were laughing about.

"But I suppose getting it to stop trying to kill us is more your area than mine. How's that coming?" Said Dr. Akagi, trying to break the awkwardness.

"It's like teaching morality and consequences to an infant psychopath who has the strength of a fully grown man. No matter how much I try to hack its brain to tone down its strength, it keeps overriding my commands," said Dr. Schäfer wearily.

They were calling Prussia an 'it'. How flattering.

"Hmm," Dr. Akagi stroked his chin, "well, it's not like it was ever, you know, human. Maybe that has something to do with it. Science has prepared us for modifying, augmenting or repairing humans and other animals, but not these. It's like building the SR-71 Blackbird. Planes were traditionally been made out of aluminium, but the SR-71 was made of titanium. New tools and techniques had to be developed for working with such a different material."

Dr. Schäfer turned and looked at Dr. Akagi. She said, "hmm, good analogy. But wait, you mean you were told it isn't human too? I thought I was the only one!" She sounded amazed.

Dr Akagi laughed, "nah, all heads of teams know."

"Guess I didn't get the memo," said Dr. Schäfer. Her face changed from surprised to bemused, "I was told that it's the embodiment of the Prussian people, or their culture, or something like that. And now that Prussia iss gone it wants a new body before the old one rots away. It would be a hell of a way to die, if we weren't here saving it's life."

"I feel bad for it," said Dr. Akagi, "I wonder if Japan has one of these creatures."

"Do you like anime?" Asked Dr. Schäfer.

Dr. Akagi looked at her, then raised one eyebrow, "where's this going?"

"Well, we're turning a demon into a robot, which seems like something from an anime," said Dr. Schäfer happily.

Dr. Akagi folded his arms, "why don't you tell me more about anime over pizza tonight?"

"Y-you want to go out for pizza with me?" Dr. Schäfer seemed genuinely stunned by Dr. Akagi's proposal, to which Prussia thought was odd because Dr. Schäfer seemed to him like the kind of woman to get asked out a lot.

"Yeah, how about that place by the train station after work tonight? They're serving those new Poseidon pizzas!" Dr. Akagi suggested.

"Okay, sure!" Said Dr. Schäfer, who was now, as far as Prussia was concerned, insufferably excited.

"Oh get a room you two," Prussia would have said if what was left of his mouth was not disconnected from his brain, "or better yet, why don't you just make love right here? I could do with some light entertainment."

For the rest of the day Prussia's brain was pricked and prodded at by Dr. Schäfer while Dr. Akagi and his team worked on improving his robotic limbs. They were incompatible for a human, but would fit a nation such as himself perfectly. Prussia didn't mind his brain being the subject of Dr. Schäfer's science project so long as it meant his survival.

When the evening arrived, Dr. Schäfer stood up and smiled proudly at her good day's work. Prussia watched her walk into the corridor and meet Dr. Akagi, whose lab coat was now stained with blotches of machine oil. The two of them walked away together, along with the rest of the people who worked in the building. The last employee to leave turned out the lights, leaving Prussia alone in the dark. Prussia thought of Dr. Schäfer. She reminded him of Hungary, no doubt about it. Dr. Akagi was a lucky man. Right there and then, he desperately wanted to be in Dr. Akagi's place, eating pizza with someone so pretty and lively, and so very intelligent. Instead he lay alone in the dark, crippled and clinging to life.

Behind all of his confident and brash bravado, Prussia was a very lonely man. Yet his loneliness only crept into his conscience at such times when he was truly alone with his thoughts. Prussia hoped that his loneliness will soon be engineered away, and tried to laugh at such a prospect, but was unable to make a sound because his mouth and vocal chords ceased to function his body broke itself apart.

The two scientists returned the next morning, talking excitedly in technological jargon that was beyond Prussia's limited abilities in lip reading. Prussia wasn't completely sure that, even if he could hear them, his vocabulary would be able to keep up with what they were saying. Dr. Schäfer and Akagi talked about guidance systems and love, artificial intelligence and sanity, empathy and loneliness. Prussia understood that they wanted his robotic implants to stop trying to kill them, and that they wanted him to continue to behave rationally when under digitalized decision-making processes. He was to have protective mechanisms in place, similar to senses in humans that detect pain.

Dr. Schäfer and Akagi worked for years on Prussia to perfect him. They both died peacefully years after Prussia was allowed to walk free, mechanized and powerful. He did not attend their funerals because he was not invited.

Prussia realised he had been asleep, his sensors were jolted back to readiness by the occasional bumps the spaceship made on its journey. He wondered why he had thought of those two deceased scientists, but dismissed his worry by shrugging it off.

Out of nowhere, a boom rippled through the spaceship's interior, knocking Prussia to the wall and sending crates flying. One of the crates was sent flying beside him and splintered open, its contents spilling out. The crate was filled with guns. Prussia was on full alert. He struggled against the now shifting G-forces to see out of the tiny window in a desperate attempt to gauge which way was up, but all he saw were stars. Smoke detectors rang out in his brain as he felt the vibrations from the engines fizzle out.

"We are going to crash," announced Gilbird unhelpfully.

Prussia had the choice to either accept his fate and die, or be disappointed and then die. He pondered this choice for a few seconds before concluding it didn't matter how he felt in the next few moments, because he was sure he would be killed in the ensuing crash regardless. Disappointment clouded Prussia's mind as the protocol was activated whether he liked it or not while he waited for the final impact. The fuselage imploded in the fraction of a second, and it was over.

System re-starting.

Electrical power restored.

Sentient systems restored.

Checking motor functionality.

Gilbird restored.

WARNING: LEGS ARE NOT RESPONDING. MAJOR DAMAGE TO SKIN AND INTERIOR. SELF-SEALING NOT RESPONDING.

WARNING: CRITICAL DAMAGE IN TORSO AREA. PHYSICAL STRENGTH COMPROMISED.

The warning messages repeated until Prussia finally dismissed them. When he tried to switch on his eyes, another warning sounded.

WARNING: EYE 2 IS NOT RESPONDING.

"For fuck sake," was all Prussia was able to say, before it occurred to him how amazed he should be that he survived the crash despite gaining significant damage. He could still see with one eye, but saw only blackness, so he switched to night vision. When he did, Prussia saw that he was lying in a field of debris which looked just like a scrapyard. The grand Tainan spaceship was utterly obliterated, with what was left of the fuselage rolled onto the side in the distance. A chunk of metal, which looked as though it was once part of a door, had crushed his legs and rendering them inoperable. His torso was dented and leaking oil, likely from something being knocked into him during the impact.

Prussia detected movement. Two sets of footsteps were wading through the debris. "Woohoo! We took out a whole Tainan spaceship! Props to the laser turret guys, I thought that laser couldn't hit a target if it..." said a man's voice excitedly.

"Quiet, we don't know who or what was onboard. Any survivors would kill us if they had the chance," a woman's voice interrupted him.

"Don't worry, it was a cargo vessel. Nobody would be onboard. Now time for some raiding!" Said the man's voice again.

The footsteps drew ever-closer, shaking loose small pieces of metal and machinery. The sound of engines could be heard, coming ever nearer, most likely to be from the vehicles of anybody looking to make money from the cargo and scrap metal. "There's something over here," one of the voices said, sounding mere inches away from Prussia. He looked to where they were coming from, his neck functioning just fine.

A figure stepped up to where Prussia lay. It walked and talked like a human, but Prussia knew that it was some kind of mutant. More and more humans had mutated by now, especially those working on offworld locations. The figure's face was concealed behind a helmet visor, two long tubes extended from the helmet to two tanks of oxygen the figure was carrying. "I've found something over here!" He called, while Prussia lay still in the debris. Two torches from the man's shoulders shone directly into Prussia's remaining functioning eye, but he could still see him detaching a pair of huge hydraulic cutting jaws from his back and pointing them at Prussia. "Must be one of Red Castle's military 'bots."

Someone else arrived and stood next to him. "We're gonna be rich! Look what it's wearing. Is that synthetic hair?" She said, pointing down at Prussia. Neither of the two figures' faces could be seen, but Prussia could hear their voices well enough to deduce what sex they were. One of Prussia's fingers twitched as he continued to automatically check all remaining systems were functioning. The two figures gasped and jumped back. "I-it's moving!" The man stammered.

"Run!" Screamed the woman.

"No way, don't you remember how much salvaged robots are worth?That one's ours now!" Said the man, inching the hydraulic jaws closer to Prussia's face.

"I'm not affiliated with Tainan. Or Red Castle, whatever that is," said Prussia, as calmly as he could.

They both jumped back again in surprise. "It talks! Kill it!" Wailed the woman.

"No! You've gotta believe me!" Protested Prussia, still unable to pick himself up.

"Classic robot talk," the man said impatiently, and dug the jaws into Prussia's already damaged torso.

"Gilbird, do something!" Was all Prussia was able to croak before everything went black.

When Prussia's system re-started, he found himself being dragged across a yellowish barren landscape. As far as he could tell, the sky didn't exist. The previous events of the crash and being found in the debris was all a blur, like a quickly forgotten dream. He was disorientated and nothing made sense. He hit a rock, jolting his head to the right where he saw the red spot of violent storms.

Prussia's inoperable legs were chained to some kind of vehicle. His speech systems were damaged and not responding, making him no longer able to protest. A crowd of people strode on the left, right and behind. He was driven through a town, brutalist and bauhaus-style buildings, which looked as though they had been jabbed violently into the rocks. Prussia felt as though he were in a town of fiction where nothing was real except his old dreams.

He was dragged into a huge hollow building, with an interior like a cathedral and an exterior that could have been bashed together in a couple of days. A door like that of an aircraft hangar clanged shut, and lights flickered on as the air pressure normalised. People began to take off their helmets, allowing Prussia to finally see the faces of his captors.

He saw a man with undersized ears, an oversized hairy nose that probably impaired his vision by blocking his eyes slightly and green teeth, pointed straight at him after jostling his way to the front of the crowd. "There it is! Let's first of Tainan's robot infantry to be killed on Ganymede!" He exclaimed excitedly, "let's salvage it for parts!"

"Salvage it for parts! Salvage it for parts! Salvage it for parts!" A crowd of mutants chanted as Prussia was unchained and dragged by hand to a metal cubic podium in front of everybody. Skinny topless grey people of varying genders beat booming drums in synchronism with the chanting. Prussia was being lynched.

In the rapidly shuffling crowd of people, one person stood still. That person wore a helmet and respirator with lenses that flickered left to right as people jostled in all directions, but Prussia was barely able to register that the person was there. He was fastened to the podium by chains, and looked upon the crowd that wanted him dead. They were no different from the nations who turned their backs on him; they wanted him dead too. A mutant, as tall as he was wide, waddled to Prussia. It held a massive drill in one arm, and a pair of electromagnet-operated metal jaws in the other. The tools were attached to holders under his wrists, and only portable due to the mutant's exceptionally large biceps. The mutant chuckled, "Cutting edge technology? I'll show you my cutting edge!" The mutant said in a gruff voice as he raised the drill to Prussia's neck.

Germany's smiling face appeared in Prussia's mind as he waited for the end, hearing the mutants chanting and the topless drummers drumming. Then a single plasma gunshot brought the huge room to silence. Everybody looked around, trying to work out where the gunshot came from. The crowd then parted as someone walked to the front. Mutants began to gasp and back away fearfully, and it didn't take Prussia very long to figure out why. Poseidon stepped to the front of the crowd, a smoking glowing pistol in hand. "Release him at once!" Poseidon demanded. Prussia was ushered away to darkness. People hardly said a word, avoiding eye contact with Poseidon, fearful of his wrath.

Laid out on an operating table, reminding Prussia of his long transition into mechanization, he half expected scientists to begin tweaking and repairing him. Instead, no less than ten insect-like thin electrical arms dropped from the ceiling and worked in unison like fingers on piano keys as they fixed the damage inflicted by the crash. The arms would sometimes retreat to the ceiling, then return a fraction of a second later firmly clasping parts to be welded, screwed or riveted into place.

Prussia underwent a system re-start yet again, and bolted upright as soon as he found that all systems were functioning as though they were new. He had been lying on an expensive, comfortable leather sofa in a spacious office. Beige walls were lined with posters displaying corporate propaganda and technical information, and framed photos of people smiling while wearing business suits. One of the walls was dominated by machinery, lined with pipes, circuit breakers, valves and levers, and quietly humming motors. On the far end of the room was a desk, and atop of the desk was a glowing computer console. To the right was a lanky scientist with asymmetrical breasts, a long purple beard and no eyes. She used Pulse-Doppler radar, similar to Prussia's, to overcome the blindness that her mutation had given her. "Sir, he's awake," she said while keeping her hairy hands behind her back.

"Thanks, ," said a familiar voice. The scientist nodded and walked out of the room without looking at Prussia. The computer console flickered for a moment as it was being switched off, then disappeared. Poseidon, who had been sitting behind the console, grinned and stood up. "Prussia!" He said gladly and extended his hands out as though about to hug him.

Poseidon wore tore blue slacks and a purple jumper. He limped as he walked towards Prussia. "Welcome to Poseidon Base 6. The largest Poseidon settlement in Jupiter's satellite system! How do you feel?"

Prussia wasn't sure how to answer that question.

Poseidon hobbled to the machinery that took up an entire wall. "Sorry about my employees getting a bit," he paused and made a contemplative expression while trying to think of the appropriate word, "murdery. Everyone's been on edge since the mining facility on Mars was destroyed by that bastard, Tainan. There's been sporadic conflict for a long time now, sure, that's normal for competing corporations. But now it's a full-scale war! Any Tainan craft that comes within range of here gets shot down. Or at least, we try to shoot it down." He began to twist valves and pull leavers, operating the advanced machine with ease. When pipes rattled and gurgled, Poseidon took and unfolded a cup from a pocket on the front of his trousers and held it under where one of the pipes ended. A thick green steaming liquid oozed out into the cup. When the cup was full, Poseidon lifted it to his lips and took a long gulp. "That's some good coffee. Unlike the kind you'd find back on Earth. Would you like some?" He asked.

"No thanks, I don't drink," replied Prussia.

"Oh, right, of course," said Poseidon

"I'm on Ganymede right now, aren't I?" Asked Prussia, waiting for confirmation.

"You are," said Poseidon, walking to the wall and running his finger up halfway to the ceiling. The wall faded to reveal a large window, to which Prussia walked curiously towards. His now functioning eyes focused on the sky above, dominated by a huge celestial body where gas swirled like sandstorms, making abstract patterns thousands of miles across. Prussia identified it as Jupiter. "I suppose you're still trying to get to the Kuiper Belt?" Asked Poseidon

"I am," stated Prussia.

"Then you'll have a hard time getting there," said Poseidon grimly, "Tainan Corporation has strongholds all across Saturn's moons. And Red Castle Superdynamics have factories and bases on Miranda, Ariel and Umbriel. They've been supplying Tainan with all their robots, in case you didn't know."

"I know now," said Prussia, then looked at Poseidon, "hang on, how did you get here so fast?"

Poseidon chuckled, "I can travel effortlessly through my own territories. As could you, I presume. But I must admit, I was a bit delayed on Mars when a compartment I was in suffered a rapid decompression. The few humans I was with were all killed in under two minutes."

"That must've been painful," said Prussia, finding out that his empathy protocol had been activated for Poseidon.

"It was," huffed Poseidon, "I felt like I was perpetually drowning and freezing at the same time! Good thing I was rescued eventually so I could come here." Poseidon walked to his desk, continuing to look at Prussia, "but that's not all! I also had something brought here on a fast courier from my home." Poseidon raised his finger to the wall and began to punch in an overly complicated enigmatic code, and a small panel of wall opened up like a camera shutter. Thin smoke escaped through the opening. Poseidon reached in his arm and pulled out a folded up piece of black and white cloth, which he handed to Prussia.

Prussia took the cloth and gently started to unfold it. "I believe it should be returned to you, since you're the rightful owner," stated Poseidon. As Prussia unfolded it he soon recognized what it was. Prussia would have cried if he were physically able to as he became overwhelmed by Poseidon's kindness. After unfolding the cloth and seeing it fully in his hands, Prussia became so overrun by emotions that his CPU had to interject. He was holding a late 19th Century flag of Prussia. The edges were frayed, but the flag was kept in surprisingly good condition. It reminded Prussia of who he used to be, and who he had become.

"An old artefact from the ancient times that I won in an auction," explained Poseidon.

"T-thank you," Prussia croaked as his CPU continued to strain on suppressing an emotional meltdown. He opted not to tell Poseidon about how the flag was a very convincing expensive knock-off rather than an actual antique.

Poseidon soon set to work with his board and supercomputers to create battle plans. He sat at his desk, communicating through encrypted codes to devise strategies and tactics. Prussia stayed in the office, and when Poseidon stood up to get another cup of green coffee, he turned to Prussia as the machine rumbled into life. "We need your help, Prussia," he spoke in a serious tone, "There's a huge warehousing facility on Enceladus and it's being filled with tech from Red Castle Superdynamics. You're the only one of your kind that I have this side of the Asteroid Belt who can be mistaken for a Red Castle machine. If we you use their friendly IFF, Red Castle shouldn't know you're one of us. There's a security force here that'll go with you, it's comprised of transhuman grunts. We'll raid everything we can from the warehouse, including the spaceships that are stored there. You can use one to fly to the Kuiper Belt."

"Sure," said Prussia, "I was created to fight!"

"Um, you were created to fight when you were a nation. You know, back when nations were still a thing," Gilbird reminded him.

"I've survived this far, haven't I? This is my only option," Prussia told Gilbird.

"Who are you talking to?" Asked Poseidon.

"It's settled," replied Prussia dismissively, "take me to Enceladus!"

A day later, Prussia stood on the icy surface of Enceladus in the shadow of Saturn. The flat round ring system eclipsed the sun and he heard nothing but the hum of five unarmed windowless dropships as they waited patiently to pick up Prussia and the grunts. Three dropships were scattered in smouldering piles of debris with scorch marks from concentrated laser impacts. A huge transporter waited beyond the atmosphere to collect the loot. Poseidon knew that his employees were desperate for his providence, and joined the formation for the ensuing battle. Despite the nay-saying of his advisors, Poseidon thought accompanying his soldiers to a battlezone will help maintain his reputation as a respectable figurehead. He sat in a light data collection craft carrying a bulbous TARPS pod, but ascended out of sight to evade getting shot down by no less than a dozen high altitude tracking laser turrets that popped out from the warehouse roof. Prussia had tied the flag Poseidon had given him to his neck like a cape. It flapped flamboyantly in the wispy wind.

Prussia was surrounded by fresh corpses of the transhumans that were mowed down by three headless white and crimson Red Castle mechs that punched their way out from the ice with their titanium hydraulically extended fists. They killed each of the soldiers using plasma cannons that folded out from the mechs' wrists. All grunts were K.I.A, leaving Prussia standing alone and staring at the mechs, barely damaged by the missile and plasma gunshots from the doomed soldiers. Combat engineers in leather trench coats, snipers with laser scopes built into their eyes, medics who carried both medical and mechanical equipment all lay in one tangled bloody mess. Prussia held the sleek white gun he had been given, although using it would be futile. Poseidon's intel had failed to predict any of this.

The towering mechs, bearing the medieval-style tower and hiragana character logo of Red Castle Superdynamics, released missiles from their shoulders. Prussia flinched, ready to react, but instead tracked the missiles' white contrails to the five dropships. His synthetic hair was blown back by the ensuing explosions as the machines exploded, one after the other, in massive spheres of fire. Pointy shards embedded in the ice. With the targets destroyed, the mechs stood still.

"T-they didn't shoot me. I'm still alive" Prussia stammered into the small standard issue Poseidon radio.

"Your hacked IFF must've been a success," said Poseidon urgently, "But it's only a matter of time until they figure out you're an imposter. I'm getting you out of there. Stand by for extraction."

"No!" Shouted Prussia over the radio, "I have to get into that warehouse."

"Do you expect to just walk up and open the front door? It'll take the combined force of most of the grunts I sent down there, and now they're all dead," said Poseidon, who was more frustrated than he was angry.

Prussia was close to the warehouse's front door, as tall as the deadly mechs and twice as wide. On a whim he pushed the blast-proof door and saw the following words appear in his vision:

PROTOCOL PR0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001

IFF CODE ACCEPTED.

WELCOME. TRANSFERRING IN 3…2…1.

Prussia found himself lying in a somewhere dark, so he switched to night vision and picked himself up. There was no wind, and a cloudy ceiling was high over his head. At first Prussia thought he was in a narrow alley way, until he noticed that on either side of him were shelves that spanned from horizon to horizon. He was inside the warehouse.

Prussia looked to the left and right. Prussia gasped when he saw that lined neatly on each of the steel shelves were robots that were almost identical to him. The robots were bald and naked, standing with their heads slumped and without lights illuminated in their eyes. Each of the robots bore Red Castle Superdynamics's logo on their arms, like the mechs that had killed his comrades. "They all look like you. Why don't I get a robot doppelgänger?" Gilbird complained. But Prussia didn't have much time to look at the shelves as he heard a clink, followed by pattering footsteps.

He stepped back as the shelves started to rattle. His senses heightened while the footsteps grew louder and faster. Something was coming for him. He gripped the plasma gun and raised the sight to his left eye, switching off the safety with his thumb, causing the motor to begin spinning up and the barrel to glow neon green. The shelves suddenly stopped rattling and Prussia detected something moving rapidly behind him. He spun around and saw, to his horror, a figure in black wearing a respirator and helmet with blue lenses that glowed through the darkness. Prussia angrily squeezed both triggers, sending out a deadly stream of energy at the figure, who darted to the right and launched itself into the air using rocket boots, charging at Prussia like a rabid animal.

Prussia fired again, only to hit the floor as each of his limbs became immobilised. The gun fell out of his frozen hands. From where Prussia lay he saw the rockets switching off and two boots crashing into the cold concrete floor. The mysterious attacker held a small stun gun that jammed his electrics, causing him to loose his footing and become helpless. Its little transmitter dish scanned from left to right quick enough to look like a grey blur. The figure could kill Prussia in any way it wanted.

Prussia's plasma gun was stomped to pieces under a boot, using a crushing force inconceivable from any human. The boot hammered down on it repeatedly, resulting in the gun cracking and crunching under such pressure. The crushed and battered pieces were then blown away by the rocketwash from the boot, before the figure turned attention to Prussia and lunged at him with a sawblade de-pixelating and solidifying from the palm of its hand, stripping away at Prussia's neck. "Why are you killing me?" Prussia asked fearfully.

"You should know why," said a raspy low voice from within the helmet. The voice was auto-tuned and artificial, much like Prussia's.

Another set of footsteps quickly drew closer. The figure stood up, concealing the blade and ascended away with all rockets blazing. The figure made no noise as it faded away like a phantom. By then Prussia's electrics were back online, allowing him to stand up again. He had trouble keeping steady and warnings erupted in his head as his polymer skin began to seal itself. "Are you alright?" Called a voice from behind, Prussia turned to see an east Asian man with circular glasses, a messy grey bowl haircut and a long pointy beard. "Damage doesn't look to be too severe."

Dazed, Prussia said, "I'll be fine. What was that thing? And who the hell are you?" He regretted mentioning 'hell' the moment after he said it, knowing hell to be a very archaic word.

The man suddenly looked sad, "it loathes all my products, yet it fears me," he perked up, "let me see your serial number. You should be awaiting shipment." He adjusted his glasses and squinted at Prussia. While he did, Prussia noticed 'PR0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001' appear in the lenses of the man's glasses.

The man stepped back. "Prussia?" He whispered, before repeating a little more loudly, "Prussia."

"That's me," said Prussia modestly.

"It's me, Prussia, I'm Red Castle Superdynamics!" He said excitedly, "Dr. Akagi used to tell me stories about you when I was a kid."

"Y-you knew Dr. Akagi?" Prussia stammered.

"Know him? He's one of my founders! He said that you helped him to realise the advantages of using robots to kill people. You were his prototype" said the man, who was apparently Red Castle.

"I see," said Prussia, who wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

"So what brings you all the way to Enceladus?" Asked Red Castle.

"I'm trying to reach the Kuiper Belt to find Germany. I need a ship, though," said Prussia seriously.

Red Castle scowled, "Poseidon put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Um, yes," admitted Prussia.

"That blasted fool! The brazen bastard! That pompous pirate thinks he can stop the likes of me?!" Spat Red Castle, "you need not waste your time with him. I can supply you with a means and safe passage to the Kuiper Belt. I'll see to it that you will rendezvous with a tanker over Uranus so you can have enough fuel for your trip."

Red Castle led Prussia through the warehouse, past lines upon lines of identical robots, to the delivery bay where a row of dart-shaped triple engine craft bearing clipped delta wings awaited official designation. They were shiny and unmarked with external fuel tanks hanging under the wings. Four variable pitch thrust nozzles were under the wing roots, two on each side, allowing VTOL capabilities. "Have one," said Red Castle graciously, hinting to the craft closest to where him and Prussia stood.

"Why are you doing this for me?" Asked Prussia cautiously.

Red Castle chuckled, "you're a product of Red Castle and knew my two founders personally. It will be an honour to help you. Now come on," he walked to the craft, calling Prussia over to it, "you've never flown one of these before, right?"

"Flown? No, I haven't," said Prussia as he followed.

"In much of the solar system, humans can't be pilots because they don't meet the qualifications, so it's a good thing you're not a human!" The cockpit canopy opened with a hiss when motion sensors detected Red Castle's proximity. Prussia followed and stepped inside, noticing that the cockpit had no controls or gauges, a far cry from the biplanes he and Germany would fly for fun.

"The helmet behind the top of the seat," said Red Castle, trying to be helpful. Prussia picked it up, trailing wires behind it. Despite the extensive advanced avionics it possessed, the helmet was surprisingly light. The visor was dark curved, and as soon as Prussia put it on he momentarily became unaware that he was in any craft at all. The helmet mounted display illuminated one section at a time while the cockpit interior was invisible to him. The information was fed directly into Prussia's head, as though it were talking to him.

SPEED: 0

ALTITUDE:0

HEADING: 255

He closed the cockpit canopy innately with his brain. "Good luck finding Germany," said Red Castle with a sad smile. From inside the cockpit, Red Castle was presented as just a moving object; a potential target.

"Thank you," said Prussia sincerely, before switching on the engines. He no longer considered them to be the craft's engines. They were his engines, along with all other components the craft possessed. Red Castle stood back as thrust nozzles pointed downwards. Ceiling doors detected an engine start-up, and swung open to reveal a starry sky beyond the warehouse. The craft lifted off with blue flames streaking from the thrust nozzles.

"Prussia? Is that you?" Poseidon's voice crackled over the radio, "I'm picking up your signal from... is that a Red Castle craft? How did you get that? That's incredible! Destroy those mechs and as many laser turrets as you can so we can land a larger fighting force."

Prussia raised the radio to his mouth and said slowly, "sorry, Poseidon. I have other objectives." Prussia pitched upwards, away from Poseidon and Jupiter. His heading display showed clearly that Uranus, Neptune and the Kuiper Belt lay beyond his cockpit canopy. And they were to come exponentially closer as his mighty engines powered up.

"What? Are you insane?" Shrieked Poseidon, "don't you dare. You have to..." Prussia clicked off the radio, cutting Poseidon off mid-sentence.


	8. Chapter 8

Prussia flew alone through space in the shadow of Uranus. His CPU switched most of his systems to autopilot, meaning he could subconsciously pilot the spacecraft Red Castle had given him. As he banked to the left, preparing to planet hop using Uranus's gravity, the almost vertical ring system grew visible in the light of the sun. From his distance the rings looked smooth and monolithic. Not even his aptly engineered eyes, augmented by the helmet mounted display, could pick out the individual tiny chunks of ice and rock. Uranus's surface looked smooth like the ring system, unlike the rocky planets and moons that were lined with ridges, mountains and craters. It was an ocean of gas with a turquoise gleam. 

He wondered what Germany thought when passing by Uranus. Was Germany travelling alone? Was he Germany frightened of nations' inevitable entropy?

When Germany was still a young nation, Prussia, wise and tipsy on beer, told him, "you know, being a nation is amazing. All the humans who love us are completely irreplaceable. Each of them are the result of a million memories, and we are just like them; one of a kind." Prussia's flashback ended abruptly. The location where Prussia said those words to Germany was obscured by time; just a bar destroyed by allied air raids in the 1940s. The faces of patrons were blurred in Prussia's mind but he remembered his words clearly: we are just like them; one of a kind.

"You are not one of a kind, are you." Whispered Gilbird insidiously into Prussia's ear.

"I am not one of a kind," Prussia repeated. He then said bravely, "that doesn't make me any less awesome."

"Keep believing that if you must," said Gilbird flatly.

Red Castle Superdynamics had thousands of warehouse installations across the solar system, with mass-produced copies of Prussia. He was the prototype. Back when Prussia's limbs were still in the process of being replaced by prosthetics, he knew that he had already surrendered to his new benefactors, and now the consequences were coming to fruition.

"I-I had no choice," Prussia mumbled. He then spoke with his usual confident facade, "so what if Red Castle used me? He's a corporation, so what would you expect?" Prussia tried to look down at his hands, but all he saw was information of his speed, heading and fuel supply. Distant stars, static and white, lined the background like pinpricks on paper while his vision was tinged with the gas giant's turquoise glow.

"Yet he was kind enough to give me this craft to get to the Kuiper Belt," added Prussia thoughtfully.

"That's because he wants you to accept your fate and die," said Gilbird.

No more words were spoken as Uranus loomed closer. The radio emissions from within Uranus were blocked by his receiver. When almost half of the planet's surface was visible, an automated friendly androgynous voice chimed into the microphones on his head, "this is tanker RC5239-17A Heavy. Please select RC5239-17A Heavy on your autopilot master display," the helmet mounted display switched to show Prussia set of options and a box for him to select RC5239-17A Heavy in the call sign display by simply thinking about it, "ETA 5 Millikajobians. Stand by. Squawk code... accepted." 

The craft started banking, working autonomously from Prussia on a low level of sentience. The tanker was a grey speck on the edge of an inner ring grew as Prussia drew close. Like the mechs on Enceladus, it bore Red Castle's logo across the top of its fuselage. The tanker was delta-shaped, lugging the cylindrical tank and bulky engines underneath. Its refuelling drogue was stood ready to deploy.

CAUTION! CAUTION! CAUTION! A red flashing warning grabbed Prussia's attention. MISSILES DETECTED. EVASIVE MANEUVERS ADVISED. USE AUTO EVADE? Y/N.

Prussia trusted only himself with evasive manoeuvres. He glanced at the pulse doppler radar's display to gauge their closing distance, speed and heading. Ten missiles were approaching from six o'clock. They were most likely radar guided because any missile with a shorter range guidance system would cause the launch platform to also be detected on his radar. He entered a downward aileron roll, despite the fact that he had no ailerons and in space there was no down or up. But his thrust vectoring nozzles rolled the craft with all the speed and precision he needed. Two of the missiles collided, he looked back to see the rest emerge unscathed from the debris. While in a quick high-G turn he frantically searched through options until finding the option to release chaff. Any human pilot would have succumbed to G-LOC and be killed in the G-forces the craft was being subjected to in the turn.

His six o'clock was clouded by strips of shimmering aluminium which caught three more missiles and caused them each to explode. Just then, the radar began tracking a larger object behind him. It was a smaller bogey than the tanker in front, but the object at his six o'clock emitted the same squawk code as old United Nations aircraft. Prussia had no time to process why as three more missiles sped away from it. Gilbird hissed, "the launch platform!"

Prussia knew the three new missiles were probably infrared guided because they were launched at a shorter range. Prussia went into a short slick loop an another evasive manoeuvre. Onboard computers on missiles had rendered flares an obsolete countermeasure. 

As the remaining missiles sped closer, lasers on the craft tracked and began to fry them. Two flamed out and fell away into Uranus's orbit while Prussia watched a whole salvo of explosions while banking around. Just one missile escaped destruction. As soon as Prussia noticed it heading towards him his eyes widened while turning towards it.

The missile's proximity fuse detonated, showering the top of the craft in fragments. A damage analysis showed Prussia he was leaking fuel while the controls response time was compromised, causing the craft to loose agility. A laser tore into his right wing. It was in the infrared spectrum, making it invisible to a human eye, but fortunately for Prussia, he was not human. He saw the laser and descended away, keeping watch on the tanker. He was close enough to fully see how formidably large it was.

"Why are you trying to kill me?" Screamed Prussia into his transmitter.

"I gave humanity to the corporations. You're what stands in their way," said the same raspy voice Prussia heard in the warehouse from whoever was trying to kill him, "there is something in the Kuiper Belt that you do no want to see." The tracking system re-acquired him and the laser shot out again. To evade, Prussia slowed down quickly by reversing thrust until he was almost flying alongside of the attacking craft. He identified it immediately as the same one that tried to shoot him over Mars.

"Have you ever considered the energy that sustains a nation's personification?" The raspy voice crackled again.

"I didn't until a corporation called Tainan mentiond it to me," said Prussia angrily, "now she's weak, and I'm still strong as ever!" Prussia swooped up above the laser turret's reach. The attacking craft banked to the right to target him, but Prussia descended and rammed it with his left wing. "You can't kill me," said Prussia as though it were utterly obvious. Just then the laser cut violently into his engines. They coughed like his old Junkers biplane, loosing power. The other craft was still close, right above him with the laser turret ready to shoot again. "You underestimate me," said Prussia, smirking behind the helmet, "I'm a machine, which means I can do what a human can't."

Prussia swung the cockpit canopy open. He disconnected the helmet, wires tangled and flailing in the vacuum. Prussia sprung upwards and dug his fingers into the nose of the familiar delta-winged single engined craft. He could see his own emotionless face in the reflection of the cockpit canopy and began to punch the canopy repeatedly. Cracks appeared with each punch until they finally met. "You're violent, just like Red Castle programmed you to be. This isn't you Prussia, it's your programming. Let me help by dismantling you in the quickest, most humane way possible," said the pilot, surprisingly softly.

"I am my programming," shouted Prussia as he punched through the canopy, only to be met by the grip of whoever sat behind it. They were strong, grabbing Prussia's fist and crushing it. With his hand still being held tightly, Prussia swung himself around and shattered the canopy by kicking it three times with both feet. The pilot was indeed the same figure he had previously encountered. "You!" Prussia shouted furiously, "you've been following me."

"I've always been following you," the figure said calmly, "that's why on Earth you were always drifting from place to place. Your programming never let you get close to me." Warnings in Prussia's head were going berserk, identifying the figure as a threat of the highest severity. With his remaining operable hand Prussia grabbed the figure's helmet, but his hand was stopped when his wrist was grabbed by the figure's strong grip. Frustrated, Prussia kicked the figure back into the pilot's seat and tore off the helmet in a jiffy.

Sitting before him he saw the scared, suffocating face of an old man he recognised. The man was bald with electrodes attached to his scalp that used to connect to the helmet. A tube connected both nostrils to his mouth and slithered downwards into the armoured suit he wore. His skin was as grey as his clouded impaired eyes. "Y-you're the United Nations," Prussia gasped. The old man said nothing in reply and instead looked up at Prussia sadly with utter defeat in his eyes. Prussia no longer identified the United Nations as a threat; the warnings were gone, and with them Prussia's fury. "I'm sorry," Prussia said with calm sincerity as his craft remained alongside. The United Nations said nothing in response.

Prussia jumped away and landed in his cockpit. The canopy closed as he put the helmet back on. The United Nations's craft spun out of control before ramming into the tanker. At first it caused a mere dent, but a fire quickly erupted into a mighty multi-coloured explosion as the flammable fuel burned from the sparks caused by the collision's rupture. The explosion was powerful enough for shockwaves to appear as ripples on the Uranus's rings. The rest of the tanker buckled and broke up. The fragments fell towards Uranus until they burned up in the planet's atmosphere and sunk into the ocean of gas.

Prussia's sensors shifted their sensitivity back to a more relaxing level. He was no longer alert and poised for battle. The helmet mounted display was functioning perfectly and the radar showed no anomalies. Then Prussia noticed how quickly he was leaking fuel. Even before the battle, he was running low, and soon the engines would be running on fumes (so to speak). He began looking around frantically and tried to disengage the autopilot. It didn't respond. The autopilot master light remained on. He was stuck in Uranus's gravity that would swing him out on course. "Damnit, I need to change course! I need more fuel! Fuck!" Gilbird cursed to him. Prussia wondered if the vectoring thrust nozzles were damaged.

Prussia scrolled through the helmet mounted display to the RNAV screen and tried selecting a new waypoint. Each waypoint had facilities listed beside it; little icons that showed fuel, landing pads and runways, maintenance and food for humans. The closest waypoint with fuel was 'OSTBERG STATION 10'. Prussia had no idea where that station was, and whether or not it was hostile. Nevertheless he selected it as a waypoint to deviate from his pre-assigned course to the Kuiper Belt. Prussia almost shouted, "Yes!" In joy when the thrust nozzles activated to the switch in course, altering the craft's bank angle a few degrees to the left. Prussia relaxed and let the autopilot take the strain.

The craft hopped away from Uranus's gravity after circumnavigating the planet. The damaged engines rumbled and hummed while gaining speed. With Uranus behind him, Prussia could only look at the stars. He felt oddly safe.


	9. Chapter 9

The autopilot rolled Prussia from left to right under its control. Prussia's sensors couldn't comprehend such movements without any gravitational pull, but the heads up display showed each degree of roll, pitch and yaw in relation to the selected waypoint.

A bright blue speck in a curtain of blackness at first looked similar to Earth. Prussia watched the speck draw closer as it bloated into a large and landless gas giant. He was in the midst was Neptune, the final planet before the Kuiper Belt. His limb joints, designed to mimic subconscious human movements, trembled in an expression of excitement. The engines hummed sporadically as they made adjustments to avoid falling into Neptune and instead scooted neatly along its orbit. Prussia scrolled through the helmet mounted display to a 3D map of his vicinity, and included the craft's trajectory. He saw that Ostberg Station 10 was located on Proteus. He looked at the map curiously. "Where have I heard 'Ostberg' before?" Asked Gilbird.

"When Ostberg made an alliance with Poseidon," answered Prussia.

Proteus revealed itself to be a moon like no other when Prussia was close enough to scan the surface, both visually and with the craft's laser array. Dotted among the craters and valleys were buildings, some of which had to be curved in order to stay aligned with Proteus's jagged surface. Motionless satellite dishes pointed aimlessly upwards, glass domes lay empty, monolithic pistons stood still and dams for liquefied noble gases were dry. Although there were some large gaps between buildings and structures, Prussia could see that much of Proteus was covered by a city. Yet he was aware hardly anybody ventures this far into space anymore; Prussia had no knowledge of any settlements in Neptune's orbit. There was were no transmissions emitted from Proteus. The eeriness of it jolted his senses from excited to alert.

The engines powered down to idol and the craft steered smoothly to Ostberg Station 10 under its momentum. Prussia glanced in all directions, trying to figure out what and where Ostberg Station 10 was. Just outside of Proteus's dark side was a colossal crater, marked on the map as Pharos, encompassed by a wall that held radio masts, empty observation platforms and control towers. The craft's trajectory ended there.

Reverse thrust kicked in, pushing Prussia forward into his seat's restraints, then once stationary, the craft descended in a corkscrew motion down into Pharos. There were dozens of landing pads beneath Prussia, with dead machinery in a tangled mess around the perimeter of the crater, as though it had been swept to the side hastily. The interior of the crater was dark like ink, but Prussia could see clearly after he switched his eyes to infrared. After scanning the surroundings to deduce what to do next, Prussia's CPU became conflicted between running a scared or curious protocol. It ran both.

Just as he descended past the walls of the crater, Prussia caught sight of a tall statue that had previously been obscured in the mass of derelict buildings. It went out of sight almost as soon as he saw it. 

It took a neat thirty seconds to descend and land softly within the dark crater. The craft's retractable undercarriage bounced slightly, and a shortly-dismissed 'YOU HAVE REACHED YOUR DESTINATION' popped up in front of Prussia's eyes as he unplugged himself, opened the canopy, and hopped out. The gravity on Proteus was far less than anything he had experienced before, causing a moment of surprise as it took longer than usual for his feet to touch the ground. The landing pad looked more than a hundred times larger than the craft, but Prussia was more interested in inspecting damage from the space battle. He paced around the craft, letting his fingers run across the surface that was now scratched and pummeled. Hydrogen leaked out from three holes directly behind the fuel pump, and one of the thrust nozzles was damaged beyond repair, meaning that the others had to compensate.

There was no immediate means to repair the damage, causing Prussia to feel somewhat helpless. "There's got to be fuel around here somewhere. Just a bit could be enough to get us out to the Kuiper Belt," he said thoughtfully to Gilbird. He walked out towards the old, twisted machinery. There was a ten meter drop at the edge of the landing pad, but Prussia simply stepped off and let himself waft down in the low gravity. A tank as tall as his old Reichstag, with a 'H' on the side was straight ahead of him, but Prussia's excitement faded when he detected a crack on the tank that ran straight from top to bottom. Nothing leaked from within; the tank was empty.

Something moved on the left of Prussia's peripheral vision. He jumped, unsure of what to expect as warnings sounded in his head. Two metal grating doors were sliding apart at the bottom of a cuboid shaft. Prussia found himself calming down as he realized the doors of a lift were opening for him; probably triggered automatically by his presence. Prussia stepped towards the lift, searching for any signs of life, be it human or mechanical. He didn't want to be stranded on Proteus, so close to his objective in the Kuiper Belt. His brother was so close, and Gilbird whispered repeatedly to him in a soft voice, "don't give up now. You'll see Germany again. You're so close. You can feel it." It beckoned Prussia to move forward.

The lift doors snapped shut as soon as Prussia stepped in, Gilbird on his shoulder, and the lift ascended smoothly. Even with the city deserted, there must still be electricity. The lift must be well-designed; it still functioned while the spaceport in Pharos had fallen into ruin. 

Above Prussia, through the grating shaft, Prussia could see the Milky Way. There were no clouds of vapor or smog, city lighting or heads up display to obstruct his vision. Although the grating did get in the way, Prussia barely paid attention to it and looked up at the stars, knowing Germany was up there, and not all that far away. He had no internal database for recognizing (or predicting the trajectory of) celestial bodies. And even if he did, it would probably be calibrated to Earth, not Proteus. "No way of telling which of those is in the Kuiper Belt," remarked Gilbird, pausing his beckoning and looking up at the sky with Prussia. As he ascended, the spaceport floor and the craft he stole from Poseidon seemed to descend into blackness. Prussia was enveloped by shadow until the lift reached the top of the wall on the crater's perimeter. He turned around 180 degrees after doors behind him swished open. 

A protocol of apprehension was triggered in Prussia's head as soon as he exited the lift. "Keep going, you're so close," whispered Gilbird, and Prussia let the protocol run in the background.

The city sprawled out into the darkness, and Prussia could see much of it from where he stood. The buildings were grey, the same colour as Proteus's lunar surface. It reminded him of the desert cities he had visited during the Scramble for Africa. A memory, buried deep in his hard drive, started playing automatically from Prussia's subconscious. The conscious part of Prussia's mind canceled and closed it. This wasn't a time for distractions and poignancy.

"Welcome to Ostberg Station 10," came a monotone and feminine voice from nowhere. All mechanisms that dictated Prussia's movements were kicked into overdrive and a protocol for fear of the unknown was triggered. Prussia was no longer curious about Ostberg Station 10. He was now terrified. There was nowhere to run. If Prussia were to run back into the lift and hid inside the colossal Pharos Crater, he could be exterminated like a fish in a barrel by, well, he didn't know what.

"Who are you?" Prussia blurted out, his voice, cold and mechanical, carried out across Proteus's thin atmosphere.

"I am that I am," Prussia heard a soft but monotone voice, causing a quick threat level adjustment. Prussia somehow felt as though he wasn't in any immediate danger, but remained alert nonetheless. Dust from the powdery surface of Proteus rolled past Prussia to his right whenever he heard the voice, and he followed it. The statue he had seen briefly from the cockpit of the craft came into view as he walked. The dust seemed to be gravitating towards the statue. Grains and stones rolled at just a few centimeters per second, a few colliding with and scooting around Prussia's feet. Something deep within Prussia's programming told him to move in the same direction, so he did, stepping slowly and meticulously.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Prussia stopped in front of the statue which was still half shrouded by the derelict buildings. The dust slid beneath the safety rail and fell like a waterfall in front of Prussia's feet. There was something about the statue's appearance that caused his subconscious CPU to select an uneasy emotion protocol; his eyes scanned it up and down over and over again, lenses focusing on individual details such as hollow eye sockets, pipes around the base that formed a robe-like structure, and although it resembled a humanoid, the statue had no built in arms. He could not figure out what material it was made out of. The statue was devoid of a telltale metallic sheen, but that could simply be a result from years of neglect.

"I am Ostberg Station 10. Welcome, Prussia. I'm glad that you made it this far," replied the voice from the statue that should apparently be known as Ostberg Station 10.

"And you know who I am?" Asked Prussia. His fingers grasped the safety rail as he stood at the same height of the impossibly large statue, although dwarfed in comparison. 

"Because I continue to do what I was created and programmed for," said Ostberg Station 10.

"Which is?" Prussia asked. Ostberg Station 10 was an AI, just like him, and seemed to pose no immediate threat.

"Just like you and all other nations, I was created to watch," said Ostberg Station 10, perhaps surprised that Prussia hadn't figured that out already.

Prussia scoffed, "I was created to fight."

Ostberg Station 10 said nothing for a couple of seconds, then asked, "and who told you that?"

"Germania," said Prussia proudly, "all nations were created to fight."

"Germania lied to you. Humans didn't create us to fight. It's nations that cause humans to fight," said Ostberg Station 10 calmly.

"Nations are gone," Prussia refocused his eyes back to their default positions so that he could roll them, "so how would you know?"

"Humans need a sense of belonging, an identity, something or somewhere to die for, so they created me, much like humans created you, your brother, and all other nations. But you were wished into existence by an unseen compelling force, whereas I was constructed out of need rather than want," Ostberg Station 10 spoke plainly, "and those humans who built and loved me are all gone..."

"...but you're still here," finished Prussia, "I suppose they were all Ostberg employees?"

"They were," said Ostberg Station 10, "and Ostberg prisoners. Isolated, I was originally intended as a maintenance and depot for starships on their way to and from interstellar space. But those starships never arrived as Ostberg was thrown into the long and tiresome game that is corporate warfare."

"Maybe Ostberg was created to fight," chuckled Prussia.

"Hardly!" Ostberg Station 10 sounded offended, "she was created for exploration and transportation. When the wars began, she had to focus her efforts elsewhere to survive. She even formed an alliance with Poseidon."

"And you know all this without ever leaving Proteus? Prussia asked disbelievingly.

"I did say I was created to watch," said Ostberg Station 10. Something rushed towards Prussia. He could barely flinch before he was consumed by energy. In front of him he saw Tainan towers in all directions sprout as they constructed themselves from dust into an overcast red sky, only to be obliterated by a bright flash of lasers. Red Castle robots marched forwards over tangled rubble and organs of humans shot at anything that moved beneath them using spinning quadrupedal-barreled weapons built into their arms. Long and broad Ostberg tankers burned in orbit while fleeing personnel transporters were picked apart by nimble delta-winged fighters.

The vision ended. "What was that?" Shouted Prussia at the statue before him.

"You saw what I'm seeing right now," said Ostberg Station 10.

"And that's how you know who I am? You've been watching me?" Asked Prussia.

"That's right. I watched the end of nations," Ostberg Station 10 replied, "so I expected you to arrive eventually, and to do everything in your power to reach the Kuiper Belt. I can't blame you for that, of course. You're only following your programming, and your guidance system."

"You expected...me?" Prussia was astonished.

"Germany stopped in my city on his way to the Kuiper Belt," said Ostberg Station 10, “his transporter was diverted here, where he boarded an old starship bound for Sedna.”

Prussia felt a pulse of emotion rush through his CPU. The thought of Germany fleeing Earth during the end of nations was a poignant one. Did Germany miss him? Was Germany scared? Was Germany still alive, somewhere in the Kuiper Belt? Prussia needed to know.

"Germany told me to expect you," continued Ostberg Station 10.

"What else did he tell you?" Prussia urged.

"Not to listen to your programming," said Ostberg Station 10.

"Come again?" Asked Prussia.

"Don't listen to her. Ostberg Station 10 wants to prevent you from reaching the Kuiper Belt," said Gilbird in an unusually serious voice.

"Your programming is designed to cloud your judgment. It's an emulation of the insanity you suffered during your days as a human. And just like when you were human, your old imaginary friend acts as a guidance system to bring you from objective to objective," explained Ostberg Station 10.

"She is trying to kill you," said Gilbird.

"You're trying to kill me," said Prussia.

"As I said; an emulation of the insanity you..."

Prussia suddenly realized that he was helpless. He had no way to kill or disable Ostberg Station 10, and he had nowhere to go with his damaged spacecraft.

"Your guidance system is what's driving you to the Kuiper Belt, not your desire to see Germany. It will do anything it can to make sure you reach your objective," said Ostberg Station 10, "just like it did when you were human."

"You're talking about Gilbird, aren't you," stammered Prussia. Gilbird, which had been in his peripheral vision during the entirety of the conversation, depixelated and disappeared. Prussia felt as though if he could cry, he would. He sifted through his hard drive to preloaded memories of himself crying as a human to substitute. "So what now?" Prussia finally asked in a scratchy voice.

"Travel to the Kuiper Belt, and find what awaits you," said Ostberg Station 10.

"I need hydrogen for that," said Prussia grimly.

Something once again rushed towards Prussia. He jumped as a reflex, but felt nothing. "Your spacecraft is refueled, and the damage is repaired," said Ostberg Station 10 proudly.

"D-did you do that, just now?" Prussia gasped.

"I control this city,” said Ostberg Station 10, “I was designed to serve humans as their very own deus ex machina.”

Prussia gave Ostberg Station 10 a curt, “thank you,” he turned on his heel and began walking. He didn't stop to think about what he was doing. Gilbird no longer perched on his shoulder or flapped around his head. Prussia's CPU suddenly felt colder and lighter. His subconscious now had one less thing nagging for attention. His conscious mind functioned autonomously without interruption.

Back in the colossal crater where his spacecraft parked on its tripod undercarriage, he paused to inspect the lack of damage. Without saying a word, he strapped himself to the seat, plugged in, and programmed a course for Sedna. The craft's down-facing thrust nozzles lifted it head height. It rotated with its wings flat, then blasted up away towards the stars.

Prussia blasted away from Neptune and away from the sun. The craft rolled to avoid colliding with the planet's ring system and kept accelerating. Prussia didn't know how long he was alone again in space. He could have easily checked his internal clock, but felt no need to.

The craft picked up a transmission, which Prussia accepted. The transmission was in an impossibly old language, one which he recognized, but had to bring himself through preloaded memories in order to truly decipher it. The transmission was in German.


	10. Chapter 10

“Gilbert, if you can hear this, then you have reached my final resting place,” it was Germany's voice, crackled and raspy in German. Prussia waited a second before hearing the transmission repeating itself again and again, pre-recorded.

He locked the craft onto wherever the transmission was coming from. This region of the solar system was littered with thousands of trans-Neptunian objects such as dwarf planets, sednoids and comments which triggered proximity warning multiple times, but the craft never cruised close enough for Prussia to intervene. A warning chimed, external temperatures critical. He checked the outside temperature gauge, to find it at -230° Celsius, beyond the freezing point of Oxygen. Prussia wasn't worried; he was built to last and could still function at temperatures as low as absolute zero. Gilbird's callous voice echoed somewhere within the computer of his head, “because you were designed to function at such low temperatures; you were designed to come here.”

The craft approached Sedna, but the proximity warning stayed silent. “Guess he never left Sedna,” Prussia muttered. The craft assumed a calculated and gradual descent until Prussia took control at 3,000 feet. He then flew low and fast over Sedna's surface. The external temperature rose due to the friction from Sedna's thin and hazy atmosphere. His brother's pre-recorded message repeated itself all the while. At the speed the craft was traveling, everything seemed sudden. Every canyon, crater and mountain that Prussia passed was unforeseen but not unlikely. (He had never explored Sedna until now.) 

An unlikely object that looked disturbingly out of place came into view below Prussia. He activated reverse thrust to slow the craft down to avoid overshooting it. The object was also detected on radar among the ground clutter. The craft hovered and began a slow descend in front of it; a full-scale replica of Berlin Cathedral. It's presence on the surface of Sedna was surreal and, to his robotic mind, abominable. Prussia took a moment so study it's resemblance to the original Berlin Cathedral, which had been destroyed during one of Earth's many corporate wars. Prussia found no flaws in this replica's realism, using his imported memory as a template.

Prussia lost all self-awareness for the next couple of minutes. Instead, he found himself as an organic being, standing in front of Berlin Cathedral on Earth. Cars drove past, pigeons flapped, and he waited to see Germany after decades of being split apart by the Berlin Wall. He was then flashed violently forward to the present, finding himself standing in front of a replica cathedral on the deserted dwarf planet. He slowly climbed the stairs to the entrance, following his programming, and pushed open one of the cathedral's tall and intricately patterned doors. To his surprise, it was unlocked.

The cathedral was eerily empty. Prussia saw stars shining above the Cathedral's large central dome, and under the dome was a chrome-plated tomb. The flag of Germany was draped over the tomb. Prussia ran towards the it, his mechanical legs bringing him up to a tremendous speed. He brushed the flag away from the tomb to reveal 'Ludwig Beilschmidt, Germany' inscribed on the top of it. That was when Prussia realized that he was in a mausoleum, rather than a cathedral. A mausoleum for his dead brother.

“Hello, Prussia,” Germany's voice echoed throughout the mausoleum. A blue hologram flickered into existence on the other side of the tomb.

“G-Germany?” Prussia gasped.

“This is a pre-recorded message. I knew your programming would eventually bring you here. And I hope the United Nations didn't succeed in killing you,” he paused, “Prussia, I'm sorry we couldn't coexist. I'm sorry you fell out of favor. I'm sorry for casting you aside,” Germany began to cry, and if Prussia had the ability to cry, he would've cried too. Germany continued, “I have come to the edge of the solar system to escape the end of nations, but I'm still fading away.” Germany sighed, “so what's the point of running? Unlike you, I've accepted my fate; I'm going to die.”

“No!” Prussia screamed.

“Your programming was designed to mimic your personality, but it also mimics your illnesses,” Germany bit his lower lip, “you're still delusional and insane. But I still love you. Goodbye,” the hologram disappeared. Prussia rushed to hug his brother, only to find his arms making contact with nothing. The words 'objective complete' appeared in the top right corner of his vision.

Outside the mausoleum, Prussia gazed up at the stars. Sedna was situated on the edge of the Oort Cloud, and beyond that lay interstellar space. There was nothing left for Prussia in the solar system, which was now once again engulfed by war. Whimsically, or due to his programming, Prussia jumped. The motors that operated his legs were strong enough to break away from Sedna's meagre gravity. Suddenly Prussia was adrift in space. Spiraling away from him, he saw Berlin Cathedral with a tiny spacecraft parked by the entrance. He felt content, and proud of both himself and his brother.

One by one, Prussia shut down each of his background processes, effectively entering a sleep mode which he quite possibly would never awake. This was the end of nations.


End file.
